Muse
by RebelRebelMonster
Summary: "I'm afraid, Sarah, dear, that you have no choice in the matter," replied Jareth, eyes twinkling. He lounged back in his armchair and casually pulled a crystal from thin air. It danced between his fingertips. "The Labyrinth—and I—have chosen you. You are, in every sense of the word, our muse."
1. Uprising

**Title:** _Muse__**  
**_**Author:** Venus725  
**Summary:** "I'm afraid, Sarah, dear, that you have no choice in the matter," replied Jareth, eyes twinkling. He lounged back in his armchair and casually pulled a crystal from thin air. It danced between his fingertips. "The Labyrinth—and I—have chosen you. You are, in every sense of the word, our muse."  
**Genre:** Romance/Drama  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own Labyrinth—thanks, Jim Henson and Co., for this compelling story.  
**A/N:** This is my first Labyrinth fic. Ever. Daunting? A bit. I started writing years ago, in college, and felt compelled to finish and post it, just to see what happened. Much of it is already written, so if you'd like to see more, please let me know. I'd love any feedback - thanks!

Chapter 1  
**Uprising  
**_Paranoia is in bloom,_  
_The PR, transmissions will resume_  
_They'll try to, push drugs that keep us all dumbed down_  
_And hope that, we will never see the truth around_  
_So come on_  
_Another promise, another seed_  
_Another packaged lie to keep us trapped in greed…_  
_("Uprising", The Resistance, __**Muse**__)_

Most stories have a hero or a heroine. It has been that way since the beginning of stories; the reason for this is simply that heroes and heroines are easy to root for, for their innate ability to overcome hardship and emerge triumphant.

But—let's face it—heroes are boring. The heroes of those stories belong to childish fancies, content to live in worlds where they have but one drawn-out victory, and therefore one ending. Simply put, they lack the depth and complexity to exist as real human beings—which is hard enough.

And aren't villains just _so_ much more fun?

**.**

**...**

**.**

They all knew her, of course. Everyone _knew_ of Sarah Williams, whether it was by name or not—it was impossible to ignore such cold beauty. But no one spoke to her if they could help it, even her professors, who, despite her obvious intelligence, knew something was just...not quite right about the girl.

At Boston University, it wasn't out of the norm to see students with their noses buried in books, but Sarah was somehow different. When she first came to school, she was considered a normal freshman: nervous, small in a way that made it apparent she was still fresh out of high school, and a bit shy, despite her obvious good looks. Boys flocked after her and girls in her hall asked her for beauty tips; the intellectual coffee-drinkers invited her to poetry readings and the religious ones assured her they would save her a seat at church on Sundays.

After mere weeks, though, they all promptly stopped talking to her. Something was _unnatural_ about her smile (when she actually _did_ smile, that is), her cautious steps, her lilting voice. When you looked at her, you couldn't see yourself in her big green eyes. She was beautiful, definitely, and altogether a gracious girl, but somehow just too...strange.

The way she spoke, it was as if she was always _waiting_ for something, always slightly peering around the people she was talking to as if they were not really there, but someone else was, just out of reach. On top of that, she never stopped reading, and though it was common to walk around one-handed while studying for the next big exam, Sarah was relentless. Book after book after book, Sarah read them all. Even the campus librarian didn't warm to her; in fact, quite the reverse. Of course, that behavior could have been cultivated just after everyone started avoiding her.

When anyone bothered to remark upon Sarah behind her back, they all said the same thing: it had to be lonely. She spoke only in class, and rarely then. Her roommate opted out of living with her after their first two months at school, mysteriously complaining of "strange nightmares". How Sarah could be the cause, no one knew, but they secretly thought they'd rather not share a room with her, either.

So beautiful, but so strange—of course they all knew of Sarah Williams. She was like something out of a dream—or a nightmare. At Boston U, she was the oddity, and she had been for years.

In Sarah's mind, though, she considered herself something closer to a leper. When she first entered college, she thought it might be different. In high school she had been the freak, too (though not always, not at first). She had hoped that by going away to school she would meet people who would understand her, befriend her, but as hard as she had tried to make friends, she somehow managed to spook everyone into acting as if she didn't exist.

After the first few months of this kind of behavior from the students and the staff, Sarah taught herself not to care. She was there to learn, and she would do it and then get the hell out of there. Despite her reputation as the weird quiet girl, she still had a will stronger than the fiercest of Kings (_that_ she knew from experience). She knew that somewhere in the world, she belonged. High school hadn't been it. Nor university. Perhaps someplace after that.

Deep down, Sarah thought she knew why they didn't want to know her. Perhaps she had been irrevocably changed; perhaps magic just couldn't be undone. She had long since riddled out why she kept dreaming of broken crystals, mazes, owls, and cackling goblins—those were obvious. But what about everything else? What about her strained relationship with her parents? They, like every other adult she knew, sometimes seemed to have trouble just _looking_ at her, let alone having an adult conversation. There had to be a reason to explain how every time she looked in a mirror too long, she thought she saw something out of corner of her eye in the reflection, but then, nothing was there. The persistence of magic could even explain why her brother Toby seemed like the only person in the entire world that smiled at the sight of her…but she refused to accept that. It was too cruel.  
_But then, he said he could be cruel._

These days, Sarah pretended it didn't bother her; that none of it mattered or even existed. She was normal, and she tried her best to conduct herself that way, despite what others seemed to think, or see in her. It had been nine years since everything had changed—nine years since that fateful night and thirteen hours in the Labyrinth. She pretended it had never happened, even though every nightmare and dream proved otherwise, even though she sometimes felt she would go mad if she couldn't acknowledge just how _real_ it had been.  
Then again, Sarah had always been brilliant at pretending.

In school, she earned top grades. After graduating from Boston with honors, she had decided to stay to get her Masters, despite her less-than-welcome reception at the place. She told herself it wasn't cowardice that kept her from moving on into the real world, though she had a healthy fear that she might not belong there, either. Besides—having no friends meant no distractions from her studies, which were almost a relief from her lonely existence.

After getting her undergraduate degrees in English and Early Childhood Education, she enrolled in Boston U's grad program for English. She still wasn't sure what age she would end up teaching for the long haul, children or college students, but she wanted to be prepared either way (despite the astronomical amount of debt she was racking up in the process). Currently, she favored the former; with a part-time practicum with one of nearby Morse Elementary's kindergarten classes, Sarah had found that she greatly enjoyed working with young children, mostly because they didn't seem to find her as odd as everyone else did. If older people didn't understand her quiet dreaming, children always did. Still, she couldn't help but wish for intellectual conversation with someone over the age of 5 now and then.

Nine years after her imagined adventure in the Labyrinth, sitting in a kindergarten classroom, helping manage boisterous children is where Sarah Williams' story resumes.

The day is October 31st.

"Robbie, you know better than to glue the Lincoln Logs together," scolded Sarah. The small kindergartner she was reprimanding, Robbie Colt, looked up at her with big blue eyes.

"I'm sorry Sarah," he muttered apologetically, shuffling his feet. Sarah wasn't buying it. Robbie was the class menace, adorable as he was with his baby blues and mop of dark curls. On average, he got into trouble at least three times a week.

"You know I'll have to tell Ms. Frank, don't you?" asked Sarah. Robbie gulped and nodded. Sarah hated having to play the disciplinarian with the children, but that was a part of the job. She was a firm believer that it was possible to be liked as well as respected.

"All right, take a seat. The day is almost over," said Sarah, ushering him to his tiny desk. The rest of the class had just finished coloring time at their desks and were all looking up at her expectantly.

Usually following coloring was show-and-tell, and Ms. Frank was in charge of that. If she would hurry up and finish screwing her boyfriend in the parking lot…

Sarah opened her mouth to speak just as Ms. Frank rushed back into the room, large blonde hair tousled.

Kelly Frank was older than Sarah by about ten years, and was one of those women that never really met your eyes, as if she was ashamed of something she would never admit. She was taller than Sarah, with a tiny waist in comparison to large hips and bigger thighs, and wore copious amounts of makeup, but the overall effect was a good one, if a bit out of place in a school setting—she was definitely an attractive woman.

She often left Sarah on the days she was there for a half an hour or so to have sex with her current boyfriend in the back of her parked car. It wasn't the actual sex that bothered Sarah; in regards to that, she subscribed to the 'to each their own' school of thought. What bothered her was Ms. Frank's complete disregard for her students at times. Well, that and Ms. Frank did a particularly bad job of not staring at Sarah like she was something she couldn't quite figure out. Despite Ms. Frank's flaws, however, she was good with the children, and they took to her no-nonsense attitude.

"Back in the nick of time," boomed Ms. Frank, glancing at Sarah as she chuckled. She had a large voice, distinctly feminine, but it still carried. The children turned to her in rapt attention. Sarah glanced at the clock on the opposite wall, noticing that it was time for her to go. Ms. Frank had obviously noticed, too.

"Say goodbye to Sarah until next week, kids," called Ms. Frank.

"Happy Halloween, Sarah!" shouted the children gleefully.

"Sarah, can I come trick-or-treat at your house?!" asked Robbie.

Sarah smiled at him as she grabbed her jacket off of the hook on the wall and gave him the thumbs up sign. Ms. Frank nodded at her jerkily before giving her a rare, if somewhat plastic grin before Sarah turned to leave.

**.**

**...**

**.**

Later that evening, Sarah smiled contentedly to herself as she emptied a bag of candy into a big bowl in her tiny kitchen. She never had visitors to her little apartment, and while trick-or-treaters weren't exactly company, she was still excited to take part in such a fun time for them.

She didn't have much of a costume, though. In addition to the outfit she had worn that day—black tights, ballet flats, a floral skirt with a long sleeve white top and a little vest—all she had was a sequined little black mask she had picked up on her way home from the grocery store. It wasn't much, but hopefully it would add enough flair to her ensemble to appease any trick-or-treaters. Besides, if any of tonight's little visitors were her "students", they would think it funny enough.

Sarah glanced at her kitchen clock. It was nearly six, which meant they would start buoying up if she didn't hurry. Grabbing the bowl of candy, she dashed to her front door and set it on the table where she usually threw her keys. Just as she went to sit down on her little couch in the tiny living room, the doorbell rang and little happy voices could be heard crowing outside the door.

Roughly two hours or so later, Sarah was nearly out of candy and already drained of her energy, but still in a pleasant mood. She was always happy to be around human beings who didn't whisper about her or throw furtive looks in her direction. Children were the only people that didn't judge her…until they got older, anyway.

When the doorbell rang for what Sarah concluded might have to be the last time (glancing down into the last of her candy she noted that she was significantly low on Snickers), she rushed to the door. To her surprise, there stood Robbie and a few other little ones, an exasperated young father behind them exclaiming "Trick-or-treat!" with a force that rivaled thunder.  
But that wasn't what had shocked Sarah.  
…They were all dressed head-to-toe as goblins.

"Sarah!" shouted Robbie.

Sarah's heart nearly jumped out of her chest before she realized that none of them bore too much of a resemblance to a real goblin (or, at least, what they had looked like in her imagination). Smiling and forcing her breathing to calm, she held out the bowl.

"You lot can have the rest, I'm nearly out," said Sarah. The little goblins squealed with joy, reaching into the bowl as quick as they could.

"Thanks, Sarah!" shouted Robbie gleefully (he, of course, got the rest of the Snickers).

"So _this_ is the famous Sarah," remarked the man standing behind the children, "My son talks of nothing but you." Sarah blushed.

"Well, I'm sure he's exaggerated a bit," she said. Her grip on the candy bowl slackened, and before she knew it, the kids had stolen it, debating over whether Twizzlers or gummy bears were better.

"I'm Robert, Robbie's father," said the man, holding out his hand. His eyes quickly appraised Sarah, which she didn't miss. She couldn't really summon the need to be opposed, though—most men ignored her like the plague.

Sarah took his hand.

"Nice to meet you," she said, noticing that Robbie was Robert in miniature by more than name. He was tall, well built, with bright blue eyes, a dimple in his left cheek and a mess of brown curls. All in all, very cute, she thought—as well as being her student's father, probably taken, _and_ out of her league, she hastily reminded herself.

"So how'd you get stuck with all of these little rascals on such a crazy night?" Sarah asked.

"Oh, you know," said Robert, chuckling, "When you're the only single parent on the block, the other ones beg you to take theirs so they can go out. Halloween is crazy, isn't it?"

Sarah perked up instantly after he said he was single. (In the back of her mind, rational Sarah marveled at how silly she was being. But rational Sarah and lonely Sarah were often at odds with one another).

"Yes, it is," she agreed quietly.

"I had no idea you lived in the neighborhood," continued Robert, still smiling, "Not a far walk from the school, is it?"

"Oh, no, not at all," said Sarah, smiling back tentatively. "It's great, actually; I can walk to work and to the university."

"You don't work there too, do you?" asked Robert.

"Oh, no, I'm a grad student. English," supplied Sarah.

"Nice," said Robert appreciatively, "So, why aren't you out tonight? No tubular frat parties calling your name?"  
Sarah couldn't help it; she burst out laughing. Robert reddened slightly, but it still took Sarah a few seconds to regain her composure before she could respond.

"_Tubular_?" she choked.

"It's been a bit since I got my undergrad—I admit it, I don't know the hip slang," shrugged Robert. Sarah finally gave him a full smile. At that, he seemed a little less embarrassed, and grinned back at her.

"No worries," said Sarah, "Me neither. And no, no frat parties. Not really my thing. Plus—I'm a bit old for that kind of stuff, anyway."

"I hear that," said Robert, looking down at his son and the other kids, who were still arguing somewhat loudly over the candy.  
Robert looked back up, opening his mouth to say something else, but before he could say anything, one of the children tugged on her skirt. Sarah looked down. A scream died in her throat.

Pulling on her skirt was a _real_ goblin. With coal black eyes and a leathery, pinched face, there was no mistaking that this was no human child.  
"More candy?" it asked, revealing dagger-like teeth as he grinned at her. Sarah shut her lips tightly, nodding her head no. The goblin shrugged and, without any warning, disappeared with a loud CRACK.

Sarah looked up. Robert was staring at her like she was insane, which led her to believe he hadn't seen the goblin at all; instead, he must've just seen her appear to react to thin air.

"Well, kids, I think it's time to leave Sarah be," said Robert, ushering the children away from the candy bowl, which finally lay abandoned on the floor. Sarah stared after them; her lips still shut tight, her eyes wide.

"Bye Sarah!" shouted Robbie as the children rounded the corner to the stairwell and disappeared, out of sight.

"Bye," Sarah croaked back.

For a few moments, Sarah just stood there, unsure what to do. Finally, she glanced down at the bowl on the floor and bent to pick it up. Peering down the hallway one more time, she went back inside her apartment and closed the door, locking it hastily.

A part of her wanted to believe she was acting silly, that that goblin simply _couldn't_ have been real and that perhaps she _was_ going loony, but the sick feeling in her stomach was much too real to ignore. She deposited the bowl on her kitchen counter and made for her small bedroom.

The room was dark, lit only by the moon in her window, but Sarah made no move to turn on the light. She sat on the edge of her bed in silence, wondering. Why would a goblin be here if not to drive her to the nuthouse? Coincidence wasn't an option; she knew better than that. Her only explanation was that she had imagined it, just as she had imagined the whole thing, the whole Labyrinth. A part of her knew she was lying to herself, but it was so much better than believing the truth.

After a few minutes in the still darkness, Sarah made a hasty decision. Slowly, she got up from the bed, and knelt to look underneath it. After spotting what she wanted, she reached out and grabbed a shoebox that was buried deep underneath. Righting herself, she resumed her position on her mattress and lifted the lid.  
There was only one thing inside. A small, tattered red book titled _Labyrinth_.

Sarah had hidden it literally hours after her little quest, and had resolved never to open it again. When she had returned to the Aboveground, she often fancied herself like Frodo: more than once, she imagined she heard tiny voices issuing from the book, if she listened hard enough…but she was no hobbit, and she knew that story well enough, too. She shut the book away, knowing full well she'd never be able to truly get rid of it.

Until tonight. Perhaps her run-in with the little goblin had made her as reckless as she was curious. That, and she was still stinging from the way Robert had looked at her as if she was completely mental. Somehow, the idea of seeing the words again made the possibility of her being completely bonkers less likely. Not to mention, seeing a goblin was worth a little investigation, wasn't it?

Cautiously, Sarah reached in and plucked the book out of the box, which she carefully set aside. Running her nimble fingers over its rough binding, Sarah sucked in a breath.  
She opened the book to the familiar words—because, even after nine years, she still knew them by heart.

_Once upon a time, there was a beautiful young girl whose stepmother always made her stay home with the baby. And the baby was a spoiled child, and wanted everything to himself, and the young girl was practically a slave. But what no one knew is that the King of the Goblins had fallen in love with the girl, and he had given her certain powers._

"King of the Goblins," Sarah muttered, absorbed by the memory of mismatched eyes, "Jareth."

In the moment after the name left her lips, time stopped. A terrible chill engulfed Sarah, and a rushing sound filled her ears. For a split second, she couldn't see anything. Her room was dense in its darkness, and then suddenly, the world was itself again.

Sarah blinked, breathing roughly. Everything appeared to be the same. She was still alone in her room, sitting on the edge of her bed, holding her old book. Once again, it seemed her overactive imagination was playing tricks on her. Maybe she really _was_ crazy. Chuckling nervously, she let out a sigh of sweet relief.

Then, quite suddenly, a figure silently emerged out of the shadow next to her window.

Sarah wanted to scream, but no sound could escape her mouth. She gaped in horror as the figure stepped closer to her, finally bathed in the moonlight where she could recognize him for who he was.

There was no thunderstorm, no sneaking goblins in her room, no persistent owl clawing at her window and no shower of glitter signifying his entrance, but the Goblin King was no less impressive. If anything, he was more so.

Tall and imposing, he was exactly as she remembered him. He was clothed entirely in black, in the familiar open shirt and tight breeches paired with leather boots. A strange pendant gleamed at her from around the man's neck. A halo of platinum hair framed his hard-lined face like a circle of fire. His sharp teeth were set in a feral grin, and his mismatched eyes, one pupil larger than the other, bore into hers mercilessly.  
The predator sizing up its prey.

"My dear Sarah," he drawled casually, his cultured accent caressing her name as if it were a lover's, "It has been far too long."

Sarah still couldn't speak. This wasn't real, it couldn't be. She was dreaming, or had finally lost it. How many times had she thought of seeing the Goblin King again?  
Whether she was dreaming or not, the Goblin King smirked at her, taking another step forward. He raised an eyebrow.

"No tantrum? Dear me, has little Sarah lost her spark?"  
Sarah frowned at his taunt and miraculously found her voice.

"Assuming you're not a figment of my imagination, _Goblin King_, what are you doing here? You are not _welcome_," she hissed.

Jareth looked her up and down, a cold smile forming on his lips before he chuckled, his eyes glinting. Sarah felt some of her courage falter.

"Ah, but _there_ you are wrong, Sarah, darling," he said smoothly, "You invited me here."

"No I most certainly did not!" shouted Sarah, leaping up from her seat on her bed.

"Yes, you did," replied Jareth, "You spoke my Fae name."

"So what?" she countered, "It's the first time I've even _thought_ about you since the Labyrinth. So what if I remembered your worthless name?"

Jareth's expression grew dark, and in a flash, he was right in front of her, his strong grip twisting her arm. Sarah whimpered in pain, knowing she had gone too far.

"Do not lie to me, little Sarah," Jareth growled, "I am here because you wished it so, and now you can do nothing but accept the consequences of your foolish impulse."

"What? What are you talking about?" asked Sarah, her voice trembling in fear. He was too close to her. She could smell his scent; one of autumn and wild magic. She hated herself for it, but her knees grew weak.

Jareth smiled, bearing his sharp teeth, and leaned in to whisper in her ear,  
"Time to go home, Sarah."

In a whirl of color, they were gone, the copy of _Labyrinth_ lying open on the floor.

**.**

**...**

**.**

A/N: Well, that's chapter one. Like I said, I'd really appreciate any feedback. Best!


	2. Apocalypse, Please

**Title:** _Muse  
_**Author:** RebelRebelMonster (formerly Venus725)  
**Summary:** "I'm afraid, Sarah, dear, that you have no choice in the matter," replied Jareth, eyes twinkling. He lounged back in his armchair and casually pulled a crystal from thin air. It danced between his fingertips. "The Labyrinth—and I—have chosen you. You are, in every sense of the word, our muse."  
**Genre:** Romance/Drama  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own Labyrinth—thanks, Jim Henson and Co., for this compelling story.  
**A/N: **Thanks to everyone who followed this story, added me or, most especially, reviewed! Thanks especially to _Honoria Granger_, _alexandrapaigeurias_, and _Nonsuch—_your kind words made my days!

Chapter 2**  
Apocalypse, Please**  
_Declare this an emergency_  
_Come on and spread a sense of urgency_  
_And pull us through, and pull us through_  
_And this is the end_  
_This is the end of the world_  
_It's time we saw a miracle_  
_Come on it's time for something biblical_  
_To pull us through, and pull us through_  
_And this is the end_  
_This is the end of the world…  
("Apocalypse, Please", Absolution, __**Muse**__)_

In what felt like both days and seconds, Sarah opened her eyes. At first she couldn't tell where she was, she was too dizzy, and it was too dark. Sinking to her knees, she stared at cold hard ground. After the spinning stopped, she was able to look up.

She was on the hill just above the gate to the Labyrinth, only this time; it was night in the Underground. The inky black sky was starless except for a giant moon that looked so close she thought she might touch it if she ran far enough East. Off in the distance, she saw the Goblin City, and beyond that, _his_ castle, dark and foreboding in the motionless night.

"It's further than you think," whispered a sly voice in her ear.

Sarah sprang to her feet and turned around. Jareth stood there, still smirking cruelly at her, a small crystal at his gloved fingertips. She was about to demand he return her home when she felt a familiar swooping sensation in her stomach. Collapsing to the ground, she retched, mere inches away from his shining black boots.

"Yes, the journey can sometimes be harrowing for more _delicate_ humans," tutted Jareth, sidestepping her and her sick. With a flick of his wrist, the evidence that she had been ill vanished. Wiping her mouth, Sarah looked up at him from the ground, her eyes narrowed.

"Take me back," she whispered defiantly. He stared at her.

"What's done is done, my dear Sarah," he replied loftily, juggling the crystal between his two hands, "What's said is said. You are home now."

Sarah glared at him for a few moments before her lips curled into a satisfied smirk.

"You have no power over me," she hissed venomously. To her instant shock, nothing happened except Jareth's eyes reduced to slits.

"Foolish girl," he whispered dangerously, "Your arrogance won't relieve you this time, my dear. You are no longer a runner, or a child at that. The rules have changed."

"This will _never_ be my home," growled Sarah, urging herself to stand. Her legs felt like jelly, but she didn't like him towering over her.

"Au contraire, my little one," said Jareth silkily, "You made it so."

"I did not!" shouted Sarah.

"There is no use exclaiming how unfair your life is, darling," said Jareth, anticipating her next choice of words. Sarah shut her mouth, glaring at him.

"Why have you brought me here?" she asked quietly, her hands balled into fists.

"I?" asked Jareth, laughing, "Me, tra la la? You brought yourself here, Sarah, _you_. I have only given you a lift—as to the how's and the why's, do not ask it of me, love. You will have to decipher the riddle yourself. I can only show you the way."  
With a flourish of his hands (Sarah just noticed that the crystal had vanished), he gestured to the Labyrinth. Looking down, she saw the gate had opened.

"I'm not running your little maze again, _Goblin King_," she spat. Jareth's smirk turned into a mocking grin.

"You may not be a runner in the strictest sense, darling, but as it _pleases_ me, I assure you that you are," he said.

"What if I just turn around and run the other way?" Sarah countered. As if to demonstrate her point, she glanced behind her fleetingly and caught nothing but the still darkness. Upon turning back around, she noticed Jareth standing much closer to her, all humor gone from his face. Instead, he wore a sneer.

"Then you will have let your stubbornness lead you into wild countryside, where there is no shortage of beasts and brutes who will try to harm you—in more than one sense," said Jareth dryly. "No, Sarah, I think you'll find my _little maze_ agreeable enough."

"I have nothing to find. I have nothing to seek, no one to save—no reason to find my way to the castle this time," she argued, trying in vain to keep the desperation from creeping into her voice. The heat of his gaze was unnerving her.

"Don't you?" he asked, and before she could argue with him further, he was gone in a shimmer of glitter.  
Sarah let out an angry noise like a cat.

"Show-off," she muttered. Now that Jareth was gone, she felt it appropriate to let herself cry a little. Sinking to her knees again, she let the hot tears run down her cheeks as she stared down at the open gate to the Labyrinth.

What could she do now? She had no way of getting home without Jareth taking her there. And whether or not he was embellishing about the vast expanse of land behind her being chock-full of danger, she wasn't one to risk it; not to mention, she'd most likely get lost, anyway.

There was nothing for it. She would have to play his _Majesty's_ twisted little game and re-run the Labyrinth. She would have to go back to what had been haunting her for the last nine years.

Wiping her tears with the back of her hand, Sarah suddenly tensed. With the moon as her only source of light, it made it hard to tell, but she was fairly certain someone very short and stout was moving slowly toward the entrance to the Labyrinth. With a jolt of recognition, Sarah stood. Could it be…?

After she had left the Labyrinth, she had never contacted her friends again. It wasn't that she hadn't wanted to; on the contrary, sometimes, when the loneliness threatened to overwhelm her, her desire to call out to them was so strong she caught herself mid-sentence. But she never did. Had she done so, it would have meant admitting that the Labyrinth—all of it—had been real. It had been nine years since she had last seen Hoggle.  
Until, perhaps, now…

Rushing down the hill, tears still streaming down her face, Sarah broke into a run. It _had_ to be him. She couldn't believe she had forgotten that she had had friends here, people besides the cold, cruel King clearly hell-bent on vengeance. If she could just see a friendly face in this awful place, then maybe she could make it through the Labyrinth again and convince Jareth to release her.  
_That is, if Hoggle doesn't hate you for all the years of silence._

Quite abruptly, Sarah halted at the thought, and in the process, tripped over her own feet with a loud OOF that broke the quiet—as well as made her fall flat on her face.

"Who's there? If it's that damn Bloewsabella again, I swear it, missy, you come near my chomping roses with another nasty frost and I'll have you—Sarah?!"  
Panting a bit, Sarah hoisted herself back up into a kneeling position before finally managing to look up at the little dwarf now standing in front of her, eyes wide in shock.

"Hoggle?" she croaked. She was surprised to hear how strained her voice sounded.

"Sarah?" he asked incredulously, "What in the names of bäätten and päätten are you doing here?!"

"Oh, Hoggle!" she cried, attempting to rise rapidly and failing miserably. Frustrated, she pulled herself up in order to stand, ignoring the slight wave of dizziness that overcame her as she sprinted toward her friend. Hoggle let out a little "oomph" as their bodies collided, but did not push her away. She sunk to a kneel again so she was at his eye level, and without any warning, promptly began sobbing into his rough shoulder.

"Sarah, Sarah, why are you here? Does Jareth know you're here? Sarah, if he finds out-" Hoggle started. Sarah released the dwarf, wiping her eyes furiously so she could see him.

"He more than knows I'm here, Hoggle," she said miserably, "He brought me here!"

"_He_ brought you? But...Sarah, that doesn't make any sense," said Hoggle.

"Well, he did," said Sarah.

"He couldn't have just taken you for no reason," said Hoggle slowly, rubbing his chin, "You would've had to wish yourself here, or be wished away by someone else. Unless…"

"Unless what, Hoggle?" asked Sarah. Hoggle looked up at her seriously.

"Did you do anything before he came and took you?" he asked.  
Sarah sighed, embarrassed. She had done so well before what was really only a few hours ago…one tiny slip in nine years…

"Yes, Hoggle," she said in a resigned voice, "I said his name. I was rereading the beginning of the book and I said his name."

At that, Hoggle's brow furrowed in slight confusion, but to her surprise, Hoggle didn't immediately reprimand her for her foolishness. He didn't say anything, just resumed stroking his chin in thought before glancing around into the night.

"No matter why you're here, you'll have to go through the Labyrinth again," he said grimly, still peering around cautiously. Just then, he seemed to come to himself, and turned to fix her with glare.  
"And you won't be getting any help from me, missy!"

"Hoggle?" Sarah asked, trepidation coloring her voice.

"You heard me," he harrumphed, promptly turning his back on her and continuing his trek towards the Labyrinth's entrance. To Sarah's surprise, though, he kept up a stream of grumbling conversation.

"Some friend...never once...it's been years and years and years without a word…"

"Hoggle, wait!" called Sarah, scrambling to get up once again so she could follow her small friend.

"Nothing doing," said Hoggle, "I'm not falling for all of that again. 'Friends', indeed! We was such good _friends_ when you needed me to get you through the Labyrinth, but after that-"

"Is that what you think?" Sarah asked, desperately trying to keep her voice steady as she followed Hoggle inside the maze, picking her way over the wayward branches and stones that littered the Labyrinth floor. They took a left, and then Hoggle found an opening immediately in what, to the untrained eye, seemed like miles of a straight path. At her question, Hoggle stopped, but didn't turn around, and didn't speak. Sarah's heart seemed to be in her throat, which would explain why it was so hard to get any words out.

"Hoggle, I—I know what you must think of me. And I don't blame you for being angry...not in the least. There's no excuse, really. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I never...I'm sorry." Her voice broke.

Slowly, Hoggle turned around to face her, his squat little figure stiff; his large eyes vulnerable. For such a proud, haughty little man, he always did have trouble hiding his true feelings with those eyes of his.

"Why, Sarah? Did you...just not need any of us anymore?"

Sarah hung her head. If it was difficult to speak before, it was impossible now. A few moments of tense silence passed before Sarah started to speak, and then somehow, all of the words she had wanted to say for years started spilling out of her.

"No, Hoggle—I did need you. Of course I needed you! I needed you so much that I stopped myself from calling out to you and Ludo and Sir Didymus more times than I can count."

"Why, then?" Hoggle asked stubbornly.

"Because," Sarah started, tears starting to leak out of her eyes again, "Hoggle, I live in a world where you're not supposed to be real. Do you know what that's like? Remembering something everyone else would think you're crazy for? Sometimes, I still think I am insane, and this is all just one long dream...that it can't be _real_. Don't you see? I had to grow up. Over the years I convinced myself none of it had happened; that I had made it all up. How else was I supposed to live in a world where magic didn't exist?"

By then, Sarah was full-out crying again, and angry at herself it. She was turning into a human hosepipe.

"Ah, Sarah, don't cry," said Hoggle, stepping toward her cautiously.

"I'm sorry, Hoggle, I really am," Sarah choked out.

"'S'all right," Hoggle said gruffly, "I was just surprised to see you is all. I dunno how long it's been for you, Sarah, but it's been a while for us. Here in the Underground, that is. You look different."

Sarah smiled weakly.  
"I am," she said, "I'm much older than I was before."

Hoggle raised his eyebrows, and then very obviously coughed. Sarah hiccuped, wiping away the last of her tears, and quirked an eyebrow at his strange response.  
"Come on then," he said hurriedly, peering around them once more, "We might as well be walking and talking."

They started to move again, wending their way through the maze slowly, Sarah especially so—she felt like someone had put her through the laundry machine before wringing her out to dry, both emotionally and physically. On top of that, her stomach still felt strange from the journey to the Underground. Still, she had to keep moving.

"So…" Sarah began.

"So." said Hoggle. "How long has it been in that place you come from? Last time I saw you, you was a girl, but now-"

Sarah chuckled.  
"It's been nine years. Almost ten. I'm 24 now."

"And what do you do in your...place?" asked Hoggle, glancing back at her. He seemed concerned for some reason.

"I teach small children, and I still go to school, but I've been there for a while. I'm almost done," supplied Sarah.  
Hoggle nodded.

"There, do you have a—a man who…?" Hoggle began. He didn't seem to know how to finish his sentence. This time, Sarah held back a laugh.

"Are you blushing, Hoggle?" she asked, giggling.

"No!" he protested, frowning in embarrassment, "I was only askin' because...well...I don't know nothing about your world, do I? Sarah, I'm worried about what Jareth brought you here for...last time, you was too young, but now...if you had a man that was yours at home, maybe he won't…"

Sarah's eyes widened. "I don't," she admitted, her face flushing.  
"But don't worry about that, Hoggle," she continued reassuringly, "I'm guessing your King is just happy getting his little revenge now all because I slipped up. Once I solve his Labyrinth again, I can go home. I did this once, remember?"

"It's not that simple, Sarah," said Hoggle, "You said all you did was say his name, and then he brought you here. None of it makes sense. If all you did was say his name, then all that really let him do is find you. He can only take those who are wished away, and they aren't often full-grown...er...ladies."

"So you don't know why was he able to bring me here?" pressed Sarah. Hoggle stopped walking, turning to look up at her, his expression fearful.

"I don't," he said truthfully, "But it ain't good." Slowly, Sarah nodded, biting her lip. Not wanting to appear deterred in front of Hoggle (or worse, start crying again), she glanced at the stone walls they were traveling through. The last time she had been in the Labyrinth, the stone had been rough and worn enough; now they seemed weathered by age, on the verge of crumbling into dust.

She pressed her palm to a wall, wondering how old the Labyrinth was. The stone was cold at first, but to her surprise, after a moment, it grew quite hot. Jolted by the sensation, Sarah pulled her hand back.

Sarah's eyes widened. In the space where her hand had been, the stone had disappeared, creating a new opening in the Labyrinth—what appeared to be a more direct path to the castle.  
"Hoggle?" Sarah called. The frightened tone of her voice brought Hoggle to her side before she could utter another word.

"Where did that opening come from?" asked Hoggle.

"I touched the wall, and it appeared," said Sarah.

"You made a new path?" Hoggle asked incredulously. Sarah nodded. Both stared down the dark entry that was the new lane. As far as they could both tell, it led onward to the castle, but it was too dark to see too far.

"Were you able to do that last time?" Hoggle asked. Both of them already knew the answer, but neither wanted to admit the strangeness of what had just happened.

"No," Sarah replied.

"The Labyrinth moves on its own, but never to help the people in it. We better avoid it, just to be safe," Hoggle surmised. Sarah couldn't have agreed more. They turned their backs on the new path and trudged on.

"Hoggle, why is the Labyrinth so…?" asked Sarah. She couldn't think of the word.

"You noticed. Yeah, it's like it's...tired, or summat." Hoggle finished for her, sighing, "I think it's still gettin' better, Sarah. It was pretty wrecked after you left last time."

"It was?" she asked, "Why?"

"I 'spose because you beat it," said Hoggle simply, "And you beat, well, _him_."

Sarah didn't need to ask who "_him_" was.

After what felt like hours of walking aimlessly through walls of stone, Sarah was having a rough go of it. She was weak from exhaustion, and being sick hadn't helped. Had she known she'd be whisked away to the Underground and forced back into running the Labyrinth, she would have eaten something a little more substantial than a few pieces of Halloween candy for dinner.

Sarah and Hoggle didn't speak much as they traveled through the darkness. It was much harder to see the moon inside the Labyrinth, and so the only real source of light they had was what shone off of the sparkling walls.

Sarah felt as though she was walking through a never-ending oubliette, an infinite black hole. The further she walked, the more it seemed that she was descending into darkness she wouldn't be able to find her way out of. Another wave of dizziness hit her, this time much stronger than earlier. Her stomach started doing flip-flops, but she managed to stumble on without Hoggle noticing. When the walls started to spin around her, she stretched out a hand to find something solid to keep her balance. She could just barely make out Hoggle's form trudging on slowly in front of her, and then everything went black.

Hoggle stopped abruptly after he heard her body crumple to the ground. He turned around, afraid at what he would see.  
Her small form was spread at an awkward angle between the walls. She was slumped against the right side, as if she had hit her head against it, unmoving. He rushed forward, gently cradling her head and pulling it into his lap; struggling a bit with her weight.

"Oh, Sarah," he mumbled, panting a little, "I don't know what to do with you. Who knows why Jareth brought you here! I don't know if you're sleeping or sick. What do I do?"

"Perhaps you should run along, Hogwart," issued a silky voice. Hoggle froze.  
He was like the wind, the way he was able to move without making any sound. Slowly, Hoggle turned his head towards the voice.

Jareth stood directly behind him, towering over the little man like an irate vulture.

"What have you done to her?" asked Hoggle slowly, still clinging to Sarah, "Why did you bring her here?"

"That, Hogbrain, is none of your concern," Jareth said slowly, raising an eyebrow at him, "Do you want the same punishment as the one you got for helping the girl years ago? Leave little Sarah to me. She has come here all on her own; you know the laws I am bound by. She must continue her trek the way it began."

"What way?" asked Hoggle, his voice trembling. In the dark, Jareth's avian eyes chilled his bones.

"Alone," sneered Jareth, "Now. Step aside."  
Slowly, and with great care, Hoggle moved Sarah's head from his little lap to the stone floor. He looked down at the unconscious young woman sadly before turning to stare at his king with an expression of both fear and defiance.

Finally, he stepped away from Sarah's body and hung his head, ashamed of his own cowardice. Jareth moved forward with the quickness of a ghost, scooping the girl up into his arms with surprising strength for his lithe body. Alarmed, Hoggle glared at him.

"I thought you said she needed to do it alone! Why you rat-"

"Careful, dwarf," interrupted Jareth, his tone colder than ice. Hoggle opened his mouth to say something else, but the look on Jareth's face promptly made him reconsider. His jaw closed with a snap.

"My dear Sarah," whispered Jareth, brushing the young woman's hair out of her face with a gloved fingertip. Hoggle started, frightened at what Jareth planned on doing to her, but in a rustle of the wind, both of them were gone, leaving Hoggle alone in the cold dark maze.

**.**

**...**

**.**

Sarah was stiff. Her back and shoulders ached, and there was an unpleasant pain in her left temple. After remembering everything that had transpired, she opened her eyes, hoping it had all been a candy-induced dream, and that she would wake up in her apartment.  
No such luck.

She was lying in a large four-poster bed adorned with lacy white curtains, still in the same (now rather dirty) clothes she had been in before Jareth had stolen her from the Aboveground. Carefully, she sat up. The pain in her left temple throbbed, but she grit her teeth and ignored it, swinging her legs over to one side of the bed.

On her right was an open window, sun streaming in, meaning it was no longer night in the Underground. Underneath the window was a solid oak desk, bare except for a stack of books gathering dust. Behind her, to the left of the bed, were two doors and a large wardrobe. Judging by the modest but comfortable room, Sarah knew she was no longer under Hoggle's care. She frowned.

What had he done to poor Hoggle? She hoped he hadn't thrown him into the Bog of Eternal Stench. And even more disconcerting, why had the ruthless Goblin King taken pity on her and brought her to the castle? She had thought that he wanted to see her struggle through the maze once more; she doubted she would be lucky enough to get out of it because she had passed out from overexposure to magic, or whatever it had been.

Sarah bit her lip. Despite her abrupt change in location, the fact that she needed Jareth to take her home was still true. Sighing, resigned, Sarah stood up slowly from the bed. She stretched out her sore muscles a bit before heading towards the two doors. She chose the one on the left first, only to be greeted by a small but brightly lit bathroom. Curious, Sarah peered in to find not only the necessary facilities, but also a large gilded mirror and vanity in the corner.

Shrugging, Sarah closed the door and chose the door to the right, only to find herself in a dark and deserted corridor. She stalled for a moment, letting her eyes adjust to the sudden darkness in contrast to her bright room, and then started moving forward through the shadows, wondering where to look first.

She assumed he would be in his throne room, which she remembered vaguely from last time. She dearly hoped he wasn't in that Escher-like room with all of the stairs—she didn't think her stomach would be able to take it at the moment.

After fifteen minutes of fruitless searching down endless passageways, Sarah began to grow exasperated. Doors upon doors surrounded her, but she had no inkling of where to go, and she had climbed staircase after another up and down again. Jareth's castle was a labyrinth in itself. She was hopelessly lost.

Leaning against a wall, she assessed the situation. Should she call for him? Would that even work here the way it had obviously worked in the Aboveground? She couldn't waste much more time. She had to get home. Time ran differently here, and she didn't yet understand how. She needed to find Jareth and demand he take her back. Maybe it was the only way.

Before she could will herself to spit out his name again, a lone crystal rolled across the floor from behind her towards a large set of double doors at the end of the corridor. Sarah followed it, rolling her eyes—he had such a flair for the dramatic. She pushed the doors open, allowing the crystal to roll inside to its master.

Before Sarah could focus on the smug Goblin King waiting inside the room, the room itself captured her eye (which was saying something, as the King certainly commanded attention). It was the largest library she had ever seen, with walls upon walls of books of every shape, size, and color.

Her jaw dropped open of its own accord and she was forcibly reminded of _Beauty and the Beast_. The teenage romantic in Sarah would have liked to be Belle—but then Jareth would have to be the Beast, and she knew the end to _that_ version of the story. At that thought, she shut her mouth, internally cursed Walt Disney, and tore her eyes away from the inviting books and towards the unforgiving Goblin King.

He was lounging on what looked like a very comfortable chintz armchair, his calf resting across his thigh, gloved fingertips pressed together underneath his chin. He watched her as if he was watching a mildly interesting television program, his lips curled into a smirk. He wore gray breeches today, paired with a billowy white shirt, his odd pendant, and a black leather vest to match his boots.  
Sarah averted her eyes from his figure, blushing slightly, and looked him in his mismatched eyes.

"My dear Sarah," he said slowly, still watching her, "I'm glad to see you're awake from your beauty sleep."

"What have you done to Hoggle?" she asked immediately. Her hands made their way to her hips, which she cocked to one side in open defiance. He quirked an eyebrow at her, his smirk widening.

"What have _I_ done to poor Higgle? Sarah, darling, what must you think of me to assume I've done anything to him at all?" asked Jareth, standing slowly before looking her up and down. Sarah felt the color burn her cheeks.

"He's not with me anymore, so you must have done something," she returned.

"You blacked out, Sarah, I merely saved you the rest of your trip through my Labyrinth. Hoggle has returned to his post," he said smoothly, walking toward her, "You should be on bended knee thanking me for my generosity."

"Thanking you?!" asked Sarah incredulously, "Thank _you_ for kidnapping me and forcing me to play your pathetic game for no reason? You're out of your mind."

In a flash, Jareth was in front of her again. Sarah backed up against the wall, trapped. He had propped both of his long arms against the wall on either side of her; though they weren't actually touching, she was unable to move an inch, his breath at her neck. What was he, one large glittery vampire? If Sarah's heart hadn't been racing in slight panic, she might've laughed at such a ludicrous idea.

"I would be careful, little Sarah," he whispered softly, eyes trained on hers, which were wide open in surprise, "I have been lenient with you thus far. I have let you into my castle without making you solve my Labyrinth yet again. I have been more than generous."

"Get out of my way," Sarah hissed, "I'm not a little fifteen-year-old anymore; you can't frighten me."  
He chuckled.

"No, you are not so young anymore," he said quietly, his too-close breath sending shivers down her spine as he let his mouth travel up the side of her throat to her ear, "On the contrary, Sarah, I believe I frighten you in _quite_ a different way."  
Her eyes widened once again at his implication. Smirking, he took a few steps back, his eyes still dancing with mirth. She gulped, refusing to look at him straight-on.

"Go back to your room, Sarah, wash and change. You will meet me for supper in one hour," he said. She opened her mouth to argue, but he had already disappeared. Sarah let out another little growl of frustration. It was so…_unfair_ that he kept doing that!

Well, if he wanted to play the hard way, she would do so. She would pull a Belle and disregard his _request_. He could eat his tainted food all by himself, and once she was sure he was busy or sleeping, she would try and find Hoggle…he had to have at least some idea of a way she could get out of here.

**.**

**...**

**.**

After searching for her room for nearly half an hour, Sarah was finally able to locate it after opening many different other doors that seemed to lead nowhere and everywhere. Sighing, she stepped inside and shut the door, locking it. She doubted a lock would stop Jareth from entering if he really wanted to, but at least she would get the message across.

Looking down at herself, Sarah cringed. Traveling (and falling a lot) through the dusty, dirty outer perimeter of the Labyrinth had done her appearance—and her cleanliness—no favors. Perhaps it wouldn't be a terrible idea to wash and change…after all, she wasn't doing it to obey him, but because she wanted to. There was a difference.  
And she wasn't going to do anything else his _Highness_ demanded.

Making up her mind, Sarah strode through the door to the facilities, shutting and locking it behind her once again. Once inside, she paused. The tub was ancient, sitting on clawed feet that greatly resembled a goblin's, but it stood alone. It was not connected to any pipes, and somehow Sarah doubted the Underground utilized the wonder that was indoor plumbing. How on earth was she supposed to fill it?

Hesitantly, she sat on the edge of the tub and dipped her hand inside, hoping to find a knob or a bucket to fill, but amazingly as soon as she felt her hand go past the rim, she felt it submerge in warm water. The tub filled when she had wished it so.  
Sarah tried not to the let the strangeness bother her.

She stood up, looking around for a towel for when she was finished. A few hung on the wall near the vanity. Satisfied, she stripped off her clothes, leaving them on the vanity, and stepped inside the tub.

The warm water felt like heaven on her sore muscles, and Sarah couldn't help but lay her head back against the edge and sigh in contentment. If she didn't think about it for a few seconds, she could almost imagine she wasn't in a strange otherworld, stolen away by an incensed Goblin King hell-bent on revenge.

Sarah sat in the tub for a full ten minutes before attempting to wash herself clean. It was then that she realized her hour was nearly up, and she didn't really want Jareth bursting in demanding her presence while she wasn't clothed. With only twenty minutes left, she set about washing her hair and body with the soaps (encased in crystal bottles, naturally) next to the tub.

With ten minutes left, Sarah nearly jumped out of the tub. She grabbed a towel, wrapped it around her body tightly, and set about looking in the wardrobe. Inside were dresses upon dresses, nearly all made from soft and silky materials Sarah didn't recognize. It wasn't as if she expected there to be Aboveground clothing provided for her, but the loss set off a little pain in her heart. There was once a time where she would've loved to play dress-up in any one of these gowns, but that sort of urge had evaporated some nine years ago.

Reluctantly, she grabbed a frock in midnight blue with matching slippers. It was light and airy, so it would be easy to run in if need be, but it was still dark so she could hopefully blend in with the shadows. The shoes were a bit delicate, but the rest were just much too elaborate to suit her purpose.

Once dressed, Sarah glanced at the clock on the wall. Six minutes left. She walked back into the bathroom and sat in front of the vanity, gazing at her reflection. She was still the same Sarah—the same long dark hair, the same large green eyes, the same pale skin and pink lips. Idly, she wondered if she looked any different to Jareth, or if the aging of humans was like seeing the life and the death of a fly to him. Hoggle had said she looked different, though. It hardly mattered, anyway, but she couldn't seem to shake his little remark from earlier.

Getting annoyed with herself for her train of thought, she picked up a brush left on top of the vanity and perhaps a little too violently ran it through her hair in an attempt to get out the wet tangles. She knew that Jareth would come storming in any minute now, and it made her nervous. She tried counting strokes, but it was to no avail. Her heart seemed to be beating like a racehorse.

After she dropped the brush a few times, she gave up and retreated into the bedroom. She made to sit on the bed, thought better of it, and sat at the desk in anticipation. She looked at the clock again. One minute left. Sarah looked down at her hands. They were visibly _shaking_! Getting even more irritated with herself, she clasped her hands together and sat there, waiting.

One minute passed. Then two. The time went slowly. By ten past, Sarah let out a breath she hadn't known she was holding. It seemed she was safe, for now. Perhaps Jareth was giving her time to herself. Whatever his thoughts were, she was sure that he would have collected her by now if he really wanted to.

Trying to ignore her growing hunger, Sarah got up from the desk and lay down on the bed. She wasn't too tired, having rested most of the day, but she thought sleep would be best if she was to wake up in the middle of the night and try and find Hoggle. Perhaps he knew something about the lands outside of the Labyrinth's border; if they were really as dangerous as Jareth had said they were. The more she thought about it, it seemed obvious that he may have been just trying to scare her. Still, it wouldn't do to go barreling into unexplored territory armed with nothing. Sarah was a firm believer in knowledge being one of the universe's greatest weapons.

Despite this semblance of a plan she was beginning to form, a part of her was reluctant to leave the Labyrinth. She was doubtful that Jareth's power was only contained within the Labyrinth itself, and quite certain that if she tried, he would inevitably stop her. With that worrisome thought in her head, she turned over to her side and shut her eyes, willing herself to dream of home.

**.**

**...**

**.**

When Sarah awoke, it was dark in her room. She rose up slowly, not wanting to disturb the silence. True, she was alone in her room, but somehow that thought did not comfort her. The fact that Jareth had never come for her made her uneasy, but she pressed on. She had to at least _try_ to get out of here. If nothing else, it would show his _Majesty_ that she wasn't about to give up anytime soon.

Looking around the room, she decided she had better get moving. She didn't need her Aboveground clothes; it was better to leave them here. She realized then that she didn't really have high hopes of actually escaping—that outfit was one of her favorites. Pushing that thought to the back of her mind, she left her room, quiet as a mouse.

It took her ages to steal through the hallways, looking for goblins or worse, their King. It was the first time she was thankful that the castle was so dark. She moved slowly, and by the time she finally saw the archway leading to the throne room, she breathed in blessed relief. Slipping through the large room littered with chicken feathers and a few little sleeping goblins, Sarah held her breath. She made it through the other entrance and quietly out of the doors to the castle. Shutting the large wooden doors carefully behind her, she turned to face the still Goblin City.

"My, my, what have we here?"  
Sarah's heart deflated on the spot. There the Goblin King stood in all his menacing glory, waiting for her. She knew it was too good to be true…Jareth would never willingly let her go. He was the kind of man you imagined played with his food before eating it. Sarah grimaced.

One look at Jareth and Sarah knew he was not amused. He was dressed entirely in black again, including an impressive traveling cloak that whirled around his feet in the wind. His eyes glinted with anger, and his smile was something akin to a wolf baring its teeth, readying itself for the attack.

"Going somewhere, Sarah?" he asked. Sarah stood still, frozen. He laughed at her, before stalking towards her. She stood rooted to the spot.

"If you wanted to run my Labyrinth again, Sarah, all you had to do was ask," he said coldly, grabbing her arm. Sarah blinked, and suddenly they were no longer standing at the door to his castle, but in the glittering maze once more. Sarah could tell from the stone that they were in outer perimeter of the Labyrinth, furthest from the castle.

"No traitorous dwarf to help you this time, love, as I have conveniently transported us to the _other_ side of the maze, far from his post and the exit," whispered Jareth, closing the distance between them. Sarah stiffened as he raised a gloved finger to her cheek.  
"But as I've said, I _am_ generous. No 13 hours—take all the time you need, darling," he murmured, and with an intake of her breath, he was, once again, gone.

Sarah felt her eyes burning with tears of frustration, and she suppressed a whimper that could easily have turned into a sob. She clenched her hands into fists and looked around, deciding to go right. If his plan was to force her to run his Labyrinth for the rest of her life, so be it. She would keep going. He wanted to break her; that much was clear. She wouldn't let him.

She kept walking, not daring to run. She had to take her time. She knew there was no use trying to find Hoggle—Jareth obviously knew that that had been her plan all along. And she didn't want to think about what would happen if she continued to try and leave the Labyrinth altogether. She had to keep her wits about her.

Left, right, then left again, then two rights, then left. She tried to count which way was winning over the other, but it was useless.

Now and again she would meet a dead end and have to go back, but otherwise she kept moving. She moved slowly. Despite the rest she had had before, she was tiring. Her feet hurt, and her stomach growled uncontrollably. She was weakening from hunger, or perhaps from dehydration, but she was determined not to let Jareth get the best of her. She hadn't let him when she was fifteen, and she wouldn't now.

Through walls and walls of stone, she wondered how long it would take her to reach hedges, and then forest, and then trash, and then finally the city. That is, if it all happened in the same order as last time (she wouldn't be at all surprised if it didn't). She thought about trying to make a new path as she had seemed to have done with Hoggle, but she didn't trust that it wouldn't lead to something dangerous.

Looking around at her surroundings, she felt claustrophobic. The Labyrinth seemed to tower over her menacingly. Before it had seemed like nothing more than a large puzzle at times, despite some of her rather trying run-ins with its inhabitants. Last time, she never doubted that she would figure it out and save Toby. Last time, she had never doubted herself. Now the very walls seemed alive, closing in around her.

Sarah's throat burned. How long had it been since she had eaten something or had a glass of water? Her head was swimming. Her will was fading, and she was angry at herself for it. How had she done this last time? _With a fat lot of help_, she thought bitterly, _and it was easier then, knowing Toby was at risk._

She hurried forward before noticing an opening to her right where the light from the moon was able to permeate the darkness. Distracted by the sudden glow, Sarah cautiously walked through.

She was in a clearing of the Labyrinth, it seemed. Walls still surrounded the open space, but in the center was a giant pool of sparkling water, clear as glass. All around the pool, bordering the walls, were trees dotted with blushing fruit.  
Peaches.

Sarah's stomach whined at her in protest, but she ignored it and stumbled toward the inviting water. Kneeling by the side of the pool, she cupped her hands together and dipped them into it, causing ripples. Greedily, she tipped her hands to her lips and drank.

She lost count of how many times she drank. Mindlessly, she continued to gulp down handful after handful. The water was cool on her dry hands and throat, and it tasted like sweet relief, allowing her to ignore the call of the juicy peaches nearby.

After what felt like hours but really could only have been minutes, she was pulled from her reverie by a noise, a twitch in the cold stillness. The hair on the back of her neck stood up, and still kneeling, she turned around.

A few feet from her sat a barn owl, perched in the nearest peach tree. He (and Sarah knew this owl couldn't be female) cocked his head to the side, staring at her. Defeated, Sarah sank further in her kneel as the owl flew down to the ground in front of her before sprouting into a man—or, more fittingly, a King.  
"Poor, starving little beast," said Jareth slowly, circling her the way an owl would circle a mouse, "I did not want this, Sarah. I offered you nourishment but you denied me. You constantly do this; defy me, deny me."

"I don't want what you offer me," Sarah croaked. Her mouth was dry, despite the copious amounts of water she had drunk.  
"I can't trust whatever you give me," she continued, "How do I know it isn't poisoned, or drugged? How do I know you even want me alive?"

Jareth stepped forward again, kneeling in front of her so that they were at eye level with one another. He gently grabbed her chin and tilted it upward, forcing her to meet his eyes.  
"You don't," he murmured. Her eyes watched his lips move.

"And do you?" she whispered, her breath taken away by his proximity, his honesty, his curiously mismatched eyes boring into hers. She wondered vaguely if he would lie this time.

"Want you alive?" he repeated. He mirrored her, his eyes leaving hers to glance at her lips, "Oh yes, Sarah. Very much so do I want you living."  
He grinned, and before Sarah knew it, she was being scooped up into his arms like a child. Before she could emit another sound of protest, they were gone in a whirl of wind and color, a shower of shining dust swirling behind them.

**.**

**...**

**.**

**A/N: **And that's Chapter 2! Thanks again to everyone for reviewing last time, and if I can entice you to do so again, I would love that! Any feedback helps and is greatly appreciated. Also, bonus points to anyone who can count the references to pop culture in this chapter. Best ~ _RebelRebel_


	3. Take A Bow

**Title:** _Muse  
_**Author:** RebelRebelMonster_  
_**Summary:** "I'm afraid, Sarah, dear, that you have no choice in the matter," replied Jareth, eyes twinkling. He lounged back in his armchair and casually pulled a crystal from thin air. It danced between his fingertips. "The Labyrinth—and I—have chosen you. You are, in every sense of the word, our muse."  
**Genre:** Romance/Drama  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own Labyrinth—thanks, Jim Henson and Co., for this compelling story.  
**A/N:** Since this is a shorter chapter (fair warning, it's much shorter than the last one), I've decided to post it earlier than I had originally planned. That and I've got a move on on the chapter I'm currently at. Hopefully, there's enough that goes on that it makes up for the length. Like I said in chapter 1, most of this story is already written, and I feel I can now divulge to you that it is planned for 20 chapters and an epilogue. I'll also add (like every other fanfic author ever...) feedback really helps me get moving! ;) In all sincerity, thanks to everyone for their follows, favorites, and most of all, reviews (and if I can compel you to keep 'em coming, do it)!

Chapter 3  
**Take a Bow  
**_Cast a spell_  
_Cast a spell on the country you run_  
_And risk, you will risk_  
_You will risk all their lives and their souls_  
_And burn, you will burn_  
_You will burn in hell, yeah you'll burn in hell_  
_You'll burn in hell_  
_Yeah you'll burn in hell for your sins_  
_And our freedom's consuming itself_  
_What we've become_  
_It's contrary to what we want_  
_Take a bow_  
_("Take a Bow", Black Holes and Revelations, __**Muse**__)_

As soon as reality was gone for Sarah, it was suddenly back again. They emerged in the library, now lit by numerous lamps dotted across the room like faerie lights. In the far corner were two chairs; between them a small table laden with food. She was still in Jareth's arms, and to her own shock, she was clinging to him rather tightly. After realizing this, she let go, and started to proclaim that he put her down. He ignored her, carrying her over to the place setting, and gingerly placed her in the left armchair.

Scrambling to sit upright as he sat across from her, she looked at the full plate in front of her. Her stomach grumbled, but she hesitated. She looked up to see Jareth's eyes on her again.

"Eat, Sarah," he commanded. Sarah gave in, reaching for a piece of bread. She tore off a piece, stuck it into her mouth, and began to chew. The pangs in her stomach changed to a purr. It tasted delicious; freshly baked, and still warm.

"Do you know much about the food of the Fae, Sarah?" asked Jareth, still watching her. Sarah shook her head no slowly, suspicious, but she continued to eat in silence.

"It was rumored, in your world, that to accept food from the Fae would mean that they were eternally trapped in Faerie," he said slowly, watching her eat. Sarah's fork clattered to the table as she abruptly stopped eating.

"So now I'm trapped here, in the Underground?" she hissed, glaring daggers at him.

"So dramatic, Sarah," Jareth drawled, "You ate Fae food the last time you were here, did you not? You were perfectly capable of leaving us then."

Sarah instantly relaxed, picking up her fork again. The potatoes were better than any she had had before.

"So it's not true, then? I'm able to leave the Underground?" Sarah dared to ask. Jareth smirked.

"It is perfectly true," he said, "And Sarah, you will never be able to leave the Underground for any indefinite period of time."

"What?" asked Sarah, "I don't understand."

"To eat Fae food is to become trapped in Faerie, or, as you said, the Underground," Jareth continued, "But as I said before, you left after taking a bite of my enchanted peach. It puzzled me too, for some time."

"So why was I able to leave?" pressed Sarah, "Why did you bring me here now?"

"Once again, Sarah, you fail to grasp the truth of your situation," Jareth murmured, a touch of anger coloring his voice, "It was not _I_ who decided you would come here. It was _you_, when you said those wretched words all those years ago, and when you were foolish enough to say my name once more."

"I don't _understand_," said Sarah heatedly, "If you would just-"

"Sarah," interrupted Jareth. Sarah promptly shut her mouth.

"You were able to leave, little Sarah, because the Labyrinth allowed you to. In your rather dramatic attempt to recover your brother, you claimed I had no power over you, something no one had ever professed before," Jareth began, his lips curling into an oddly handsome sneer. Sarah could tell he did not enjoy recalling the particular memory.

"The Labyrinth has it's own magic, an extension of my own power, if you will. When you said those words, it branded you for all eternity, much more deeply than any bite of an enchanted peach ever could. You singlehandedly destroyed my Labyrinth—it _sought_ this, because it marked you as my equal. Essentially, the Labyrinth lay in ruin on purpose. It saw a greater power, and set about reshaping to encompass it."

"But it's reshaped already," said Sarah slowly, "It's the same as before. It's healing, Hoggle showed me when we were passing through."

"Not quite," said Jareth, "There was a piece missing before, one that I had ignored, one that had to age before it could be claimed. It took me some time before I was able to understand why the Labyrinth was not reforming the way it should; why it had been reduced to magical rubble in the first place. Your power, Sarah."

"My power?" asked Sarah, "I haven't got any-"

"I have just told you, Sarah, darling," said Jareth impatiently, "When you said those words, the Labyrinth deemed you worthy of magic and gave you not only the power to leave and age appropriately, but also the power to rule it by my side. It is rebuilding, reforming, reshaping to match both you and I. It is sentient, but under my control, and it grows impatient. It wants to be restored to its former glory just as much as I want it to."

Sarah stared at him, eyes wide.

"So…you're saying that you brought me here because I have to rule the Labyrinth with you, according to the magic I invoked last time?"

"_You_ brought yourself here by carelessly uttering my true name, and likely because you are—and always will be—drawn to the magic you unknowingly claimed as half yours," said Jareth smoothly, leaning in towards her, "You are bound to the Labyrinth. You are marked for eternity, just as I am."

"How were you able to take me away in the first place?," Sarah asked, "Hoggle said I would've had to be wished away or wished myself away."

"I have told you this," Jareth said, aggravated, "You spoke my Fae name. I never revealed it to you; to do so would have given you power over me. You learned it from that traitorous dwarf, and by speaking it, I was able to journey Aboveground without needing to collect someone wished away. It was my duty to bring the Queen of the Labyrinth back."

"Queen?" asked Sarah, gulping, "No thanks. I'd rather be an English teacher."

"I'm afraid, Sarah, dear, that you have no choice in the matter," replied Jareth, eyes twinkling. He sat back in his armchair and casually pulled a crystal from thin air. It danced between his fingertips.

"The Labyrinth—and I—have chosen you. You are, in every sense of the word, our muse."

It took Sarah a moment to respond. This couldn't be happening. She had _won_. She had _beaten_ this…this _man_ and yet she was the one who was bound to live a life in a strange world, alone? Well, alone except for _him_, the person (or faerie, or sorcerer, or whatever) who wanted nothing more than to exact his revenge on her.  
Well, so far he was doing an excellent job.

"As far as revenge goes, _Goblin King_, you are unparalleled in your efforts," she hissed, leaping to her feet. Her half-eaten plate lay forgotten. Jareth narrowed his eyes at her, opening his mouth to speak, but Sarah didn't let him get a word in.

"I _beat_ you, remember? You stole away my brother, you forced me to run your wretched Labyrinth, you tricked me and drugged me and tried distracting me but I _beat_ you in the end!" Sarah shouted, clenching her hands into fists.

"Sarah-" Jareth warned.

"No!" Sarah yelled, "You'd think that after all of that you would have enough decency to be a graceful loser, but of course not. The Goblin King couldn't allow a _little girl_ to strike his pride. I played your game of tricks and lies and I _beat you_, and now your attempt at revenge is to force me to abandon my own life, trapped in a world of magic and deception forever with _you_? No. Fucking. Way."

"Sarah!" roared Jareth, his eyes blazing with fury as he was suddenly on his feet in front of her. Just like earlier that day, he seemed much too close. Their noses were inches apart, eyes locked on each other.

"Do not try me, little Sarah," Jareth growled, "You are no longer a child, and I will no longer treat you as such, or indulge you in your selfish wishes and childish fancies. I have saved you from your own destruction. I have given you everything you have asked for and you have thrown it back into my face. Did you never wonder why, after going back to that wretched place devoid of any magic or feeling or wonder, why the others could scarcely _look_ at you? It is because you are too bright for their eyes to comprehend; they have become too cold, lacking belief in all that made a place such as this. If you were to remain Aboveground you would go slowly insane, never meant to exist in a place devoid of any true magic. You would never have lasted there. Once again, my love, you should be _thanking me_."

"And those are the words of a King?" spat Sarah, "Take a bow, _Goblin King_—you're out of your mind if you think I believe you for one second. You're a sore loser and a terrible ruler if you think playing this fruitless game will work. _You will never rule me_."

Sarah knew she had crossed a line. She had been intending to cross it. She anticipated him to hurt her, strike her down, anything that would match his obvious ire for her.  
What he did do was infinitely more frightening.

For a moment, he didn't move, he just stared at her, his eyes searing with rage, his lips pressed into a firm line. She almost thought he wasn't even breathing. Finally, he moved.

Slowly, too slowly, his hand came up to caress her cheek. The leather of his glove was cold and smooth across it, and it took a great effort from Sarah not to close her eyes to the sensation. Her breathing was growing labored. Fury and something else entirely had set her skin on fire. Neither one broke eye contact; to do so somehow seemed the same as losing.

Without warning, Jareth's other arm snaked its way around Sarah's waist, pressing her body against his own. The hard lines shocked Sarah's small, soft form. This wasn't familiar. She hadn't been this close to a man in...well.

Sarah couldn't help it; she closed her eyes, despite the fear pulsing through her body like a tidal wave. She felt his mouth travel along her exposed collarbone, and then slowly up her neck. Sarah shuddered. If he hadn't been holding her, she didn't think she would have been able to stand.

"Sarah," he murmured softly, his voice touched with a hint of something completely foreign before he pressed his lips to her throat in a chaste kiss.

A sound escaped from Sarah's lips, but she didn't recognize what it was. Jareth, however, knew a moan when he heard one, and grabbed her waist with both hands, pulling her, if possible, even more tightly against him. Sarah's eyes opened in shock as she felt his body more fully against hers, and finally seemed to come to her senses with the realization that he was trying to prove just how easily he could gain power over her. And he was doing a hell of a job.

As if awoken from a dream, Sarah shook her head and tried pushing him off of her. He immediately let her go, looking down at her with dark eyes.

"Go now, little Sarah," he said softly, his eyes burning, "Tomorrow, you will learn the consequences of insulting a King."

Sarah stared at him for a few more seconds, unable to tear her eyes away for a reason she didn't know, but eventually she collected herself and sprinted from the room, not daring to look back.  
Jareth watched her go, a cruel smile forming on his pale lips.

"My beautiful Sarah," he whispered to himself, "How you turned my world, you precious thing…no matter. It is my turn now."

**.**

**...**

**.**

Back in her room, Sarah sank onto her bed, shaking. She glanced at the wall, looking for a clock, and was disappointed when she saw nothing. She didn't know when the sun rose here, especially when a thirteenth hour was added, but she was sure she had less than five hours of sleep ahead of her before she would be woken up.  
Unfortunately, she was wide-awake.

Back in the library, she had not only crossed the line between herself and the Goblin King, she had ran past it and spat on it along the way. She should've known he would find a new and more tortuous way to punish her…

She buried her face in her hands, still shaking madly. It had felt _too_ good, his body near hers. After so much neglect, after being so lonely for so long in the human world, he just had to demonstrate how easily he could beat her pathetic little human body.

_I have saved you from your own destruction. I have given you everything you have asked for and you have thrown it back into my face. Did you never wonder why, after going back to that wretched place devoid of any magic or feeling or wonder, why the others could scarcely look at you? It is because you are too bright for their eyes to comprehend; they have become too cold, lacking belief in all that made a place such as this. If you were to remain Aboveground you would go slowly insane, never meant to exist in a place devoid of any true magic. You would never have lasted there._

Could it be true? Was that the reason she had never fit in, not since that first adventure nine years ago? Was that the reason why she had spooked nearly everyone she knew away? Was that the reason she was so alone? The idea that the Labyrinth had decided she would be Jareth's prisoner-queen was cruel enough, but what was worse was the notion that she had condemned herself the moment she had claimed he held no power over her. Taking that triumph and turning it into the source of her current imprisonment was too much to bear. As for Jareth himself...had he really saved her from a lifetime in the Aboveground locked inside a padded cell?

If she chose to believe what he was telling her, whether it was true or not, she was facing the loss of her freedom, her whole _life_, either way.

Sarah's head snapped up. No. She wouldn't believe it, not yet. He had to be manipulating her, tricking her into believing what he wanted her to believe so he could keep her trapped here. He had never played fair; why would he start now? She was no fool. She wouldn't let him win so easily.

With that thought in her mind, Sarah lay back, fully clothed, to drift into a fitful sleep.

**.**

**...**

**.**

**A/N:** That's it! Let me know your thoughts! It helps with the updating...haha. But seriously, feedback is much appreciated. Best ~ _RebelRebel_


	4. City of Delusion

**Title:** _Muse_  
**Author:** RebelRebelMonster  
**Summary:** "I'm afraid, Sarah, dear, that you have no choice in the matter," replied Jareth, eyes twinkling. He lounged back in his armchair and casually pulled a crystal from thin air. It danced between his fingertips. "The Labyrinth—and I—have chosen you. You are, in every sense of the word, our muse."  
**Genre:** Romance/Drama  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own Labyrinth—thanks, Jim Henson and Co., for this compelling story.  
**A/N:** Hey all, thanks for your feedback and reviews for chapter 3! Here is chapter 4, which is thankfully a bit longer. I hope you like it! Not to sound like totally lame, but I could use some positive news...I just had a long week that culminated in my boyfriend's grandma passing away and me getting laid off from my job. Ugh. Plenty of time to write, though, right? Anyway, no more distractions! Read on to Chapter 4...

Chapter 4  
**City of Delusion**  
_Can I believe_  
_When I don't trust_  
_All your theories_  
_Turn to dust_  
_I choose to hide_  
_From the all seeing eye_  
_Destroy this City of Delusion_  
_Break these walls down…_  
_("City of Delusion", Black Holes and Revelations, __**Muse**__)_

The next morning, Sarah was rudely awakened by two small female goblins prodding and poking her.  
"Wake up!" crowed the one on her left, a short plump little thing with a mess of ginger hair.

"I've never _seen_ a human so lazy!" cried the one to her right, grabbing Sarah's arm and pulling with surprising strength. She was taller than her companion, reaching nearly to Sarah's waist, and had black hair to match her coal-black eyes. Both were old and weathered, with faces that looked as if they were carved out of wood—a feature customary of many goblins Sarah had come in contact with.

Sarah groaned, snatching her arm back from the black-haired one, and sat up. She had been right in thinking she wouldn't get much sleep; she couldn't have drifted off more than four hours prior. Glaring, she paid no attention to the little female goblins and slowly got out of bed.

"Too slow, little human!" shouted the first goblin.

"I'm going as fast as humanly possible at this hour," Sarah mumbled, expecting them not to hear her.

To her immense surprise, both clucked at her and ushered her into the bathroom. Before she knew what was happening they were prying off her clothes and forcing her into the tub, exclaiming how late she was. Sarah didn't have the strength to care, she just let herself be picked and fussed over.

After the fastest wash of her life (she had enough time to be amused by how you brushed your teeth in the Underground) and being stuffed into a pretty green dress that perfectly matched her eyes (though the bodice was a bit low-cut for Sarah's modest taste), she was being towed out of her room by the two little goblins to who-knows-where.

After a series of dizzying staircases leading downward, Sarah was led through another set of large oak doors just past Jareth's throne room. An enormous table, with room for at least 100 place settings, stretched the length of the long, high-ceilinged hall. At the end of the table sat Jareth eating breakfast, a grand fireplace crackling directly behind him.  
At her entrance, the Goblin King looked up from his eggs, his lips curling into a mischievous grin.

"Sarah," he murmured, inclining his head toward her, "Best get some breakfast, my dear."  
Sarah hesitated. He was being much too…cordial. She knew he was still angry with her, and didn't care one jot. _She_ was still angry with him.

Noticing that her goblin caretakers had vanished, Sarah set her mouth into a firm line and made her way to sit next to Jareth's immediate right at the head of the table. Before them, a variety of breakfast foods sat waiting.  
Jareth watched Sarah take every step, and his eyes didn't leave her until she had settled herself in her seat and begun to take a helping of eggs and some toast.

"Eat up, Sarah," Jareth remarked, "You will need your strength."

"Will I?" asked Sarah, pausing her eating to take a sip of juice, trying to act as though his pleasure at her discomfort didn't bother her in the least.

"Oh yes," continued Jareth, "You will be going through a foreign part of the Labyrinth today. You did not venture there on your last visit. So young then, it seemed hideously cruel to spoil you so soon. Had it not been for your brazen manner last night, I would've thought you were still too young to go there. Of course, your sentiments have proven me mistaken."

Jareth raised his glass to her before drinking the rest of its contents. Sarah glared at him and bit back the tirade she wanted to hurl his way. So this was her punishment, was it? Her punishment for telling him exactly what he didn't want to hear. Well, he could try and scare her all he wanted, she would get through this part of the Labyrinth or die trying.  
And she knew he didn't want her dead.

Upon her finishing her breakfast, Jareth stood, and to Sarah's shock, pulled her chair out for her and offered her his hand. Reluctantly Sarah took it and allowed him to pull her up gracefully.

"You do look very well today, Sarah," he purred, pulling her close to him, "Regal, in fact."

Just as Sarah was going to push herself free of him, she felt the transportation magic begin to take hold. She found herself burying her face into his chest, not wanting to see the popping lights as she knew they moved through space and time to where he was planning on depositing her. She could hear him chuckle as time both seemed to speed up and halt; colors burned and paled around her as they became no more than ghosts. She closed her eyes, and they were there.

Her eyes flickered open. They had moved past walls of glittering stone within the Labyrinth and made it to the dense hedge mazes. Before them was a large, rusty wooden door with a gleaming brass knocker and doorknob, placed in the center of the green path they stood in. Around the edge of the wood were gleaming runes and symbols Sarah had no hope of reading.

Just as Sarah was about to ask Jareth what was so frightening about a door, she realized she was still being held in his arms. Eyes wide, she looked up to see a strange look on his face, and hastily pushed him away from her. He let her go easily, the strange look gone. Sarah wondered if she had imagined it.

Striding forward, Jareth smirked, gesturing to the door with a flourish.  
"The entrance to the Dream Roads, Sarah," he drawled, "You will follow the path only, and you will remember this: the way out is what you _wish_ for."

"What I wish for?" she asked skeptically.

"Yes," Jareth said softly, turning the brass door handle, "What your heart desires most."

He opened the door and leaned back against the green hedge next to it, arms folded smugly across his chest. With a satisfied smirk, he beckoned for her to walk through it. Sarah narrowed her eyes at him before marching forward through the door and into the sunlight.

Sarah had to shield her eyes for a minute before she could see. Eyes adjusting to the light, she peered around. She felt her heart constrict with painful pleasure, and her spirit soared with joy. She was in the park near her parents' house! Her face broke into a giant smile and she spun around in a circle, laughing without a thought. She was home! She threw her arms and face up to the sky-  
_The sky was purple._

Sarah froze. The sky was a deep, rich, unnatural violet, and there were no clouds, only a bright orange sun, whose warmth kissed her face pleasantly. She definitely had never seen a purple, cloudless sky on Earth; least of all one that resembled a drawing from one of her kindergarteners.

Sarah bit her lip, holding back the tears of frustration that threatened to fall. Seriously, when had she gotten so weepy? She had been foolish, thoughtless for a moment, and now the crushing reality hurt her insides.

She was still in the Labyrinth, of course…now it was just showing her what she wanted to see. It was foolish of her to abandon her sense, even for just a moment. She had witnessed the Labyrinth recreate things that were familiar to her before; how could she have so readily forgotten the trash lady and her bedroom? This time was no different.  
But what harm could come from her wanting to be home? Jareth had said to stay to the path. What _was_ the path?

Sarah looked down at her feet, but there was no trail of breadcrumbs to guide her. She looked around the park, instantly noticing the changes from the real one and this copy. There were no daisies by the pond back home, and the colors here were brighter, more vibrant. Combined with the purple sky, she felt like she had walked into a dream  
_Well I have_, Sarah thought, _my own dream._

Well, if this was her dream, then she knew where she wanted to go. She _wanted_ to go home. At that encouraging thought, Sarah broke into a sprint towards the house she had lived in as a child.

Sarah reached her old Victorian out of breath, and then jumped the last step to her doorstep. Looking down, she briefly noticed that her clothes had changed; she was wearing jeans and a green blouse. She pushed open the unlocked door, allowing herself a small smile at the seemingly familiar smell, and sidled into the kitchen. Her jaw dropped as soon as she stepped inside.

"Sarah, baby, you're home!" beamed an older, breathtaking woman with long dark hair just like Sarah's from the kitchen counter.

"Mom?" Sarah choked, halting immediately. What was her mother doing here?  
Linda Williams frowned at her daughter for a split-second, and then regained her radiant smile. She was chopping vegetables for a salad.

"Who else would it be, honey?" she asked, chuckling, "Your father should be home any minute, do you want to set the table for dinner?"

"Um, sure," Sarah said, still unable to tear her eyes away from her mother. As Sarah grabbed forks and knives from the proper drawer, her mind reeled. Her mother had left her father years ago…why was she here now?  
Suddenly, it dawned on her. This was _her_ dream; it wasn't real. She had often dreamt that her mother had never left…and here, she hadn't.

Sarah was pulled from her reverie by the sound of her father coming in through the front door. As he walked into the kitchen, he grinned at his daughter and made to kiss his wife. Sarah watched in awe as her father planted a sweet kiss on her giggling mother. She had long lost hope of ever seeing that happen again.

"Sarah?" asked her father quizzically, giving her a strange look from his position next to her mother. "Is something wrong?"

"Er, no," said Sarah quickly, setting the last place at the table, "You two are just so…affectionate, is all."

"Oh, Sarah," laughed her mother, flushing, "Quit being too observant. It's time to eat, anyway. Honey, why did you set four places?"

Caught off-guard, Sarah looked down at the table. She _had_ set four places. One for her, her dad, her mother, and…Toby.  
_Toby._

Sarah froze. It felt as if someone had just pulled all of her organs out through her stomach and she was empty inside; cold.  
"Sarah?" asked her father, peering at her with concern.  
Sarah didn't hear him. In this world, in this dream where her mother and father still loved each other, her brother Toby didn't exist.  
_She had wished her brother away again._

Sarah felt hot tears roll down her cheeks. This couldn't be. She loved Toby—he was the only person in her world that loved her back. In the real world, her mother barely spoke to her, and her father and Karen were just as put off by her as everyone else. But Toby…  
Toby couldn't not exist.

"Sarah, are you all right?" asked her father worriedly, letting go of his wife to rush over to his daughter. Sarah heard him this time, and looked up at him with watery eyes.

"The fourth place is for Toby," she said quietly, testing him. Toby had to exist in her dreams. He _had_ to.

"Sweetheart," said her father, his brow furrowed in confusion, "Who is Toby?"  
Sarah's world spun. She felt dangerously close to falling down, but her father reached out and grabbed her. She heard him continue to ask her what was wrong, growing more panicked after each exclamation. Tears clouded her vision. All she really felt in addition to blind panic were her father's nails digging into her arm.

"You don't know Toby," she whispered, "You don't know your own son."  
Her father abruptly stopped speaking and stared at her as if she was insane; ironically enough, he finally looked like her father in the real world actually might. Sarah furiously wiped away the tears obscuring her sight and pushed her father away from her, bolting for the door. The last sounds she heard were her parents calling for her to come back.

Sarah didn't go back. She kept running, barely seeing where she was going. She moved from her yard to the familiar streets of her hometown, the bright sun burning the back of her neck, the heavy feeling of guilt and selfishness weighing her down. It felt as if a large piece of iron was lodged between her heart and her stomach. How could she keep falling for everything the Labyrinth threw at her? Had she grown so weak?

After a few minutes of pointless running, not paying attention to where she was going, Sarah fell, wheezing, to the ground. She landed on her hands and knees, and for the second time she noticed her attire had changed—this time, into jeans, a long-sleeve gray top and one of her favorite hooded jackets.

"Sarah, are you all right?"  
Sarah looked up at the sound of her name and gasped.  
Walking towards her was her old roommate, Emily, a concerned look on her face. Emily was a tall, athletic girl, sort of abrasive but otherwise friendly, with dirty blonde hair that fell to her shoulders and gray-blue eyes. She was walking towards her with a backpack slung over one arm, the other extended toward Sarah.

Sarah stared up at Emily in shock. Emily and her had started out friendly enough their freshman year living together, but in the short space of two months, Emily had begun to avoid her, finally going so far as to request that Sarah be moved to live in a single. She had complained of strange nightmares and had told her that she was better off "living alone" for the time being. Two days later she had moved in with another girl from the soccer team.

Sarah had been hurt, of course, but after a few more months had passed by, she grew used to the way people grew to act around her. Knowing a possible reason now why everyone felt uneasy around her (and possibly identifying the source of Emily's odd nightmares), it blew her mind to see Emily standing in front of her, offering her help.

"Yes," said Sarah slowly, pulling herself to her feet. Emily frowned as Sarah didn't take her offered hand.

"You sure?" asked Emily, "I was wondering where you ran off to, James has been waiting for us for half an hour! Did you forget we were all going to study together this afternoon?"

Sarah's eyes grew wider and she glanced around. She was no longer in the quiet streets of her hometown, but back in Boston on campus. Looking around at the usually comforting brick buildings, Sarah felt nauseous. The landscape changes were too sudden—she wasn't used to dreaming while awake, or traveling through dreams so rapidly.

The buildings seemed distorted, almost in ruin, as if they were decaying from age around them. Once again, the colors here were more vibrant than they were in reality, and Sarah noticed that the season had changed: the reds, oranges, and browns dotting Boston U's campus indicated that it was now autumn instead of summer.

"Yeah, I guess I did," said Sarah slowly, unnerved by Emily's calculating stare. "Who's James?" Sarah asked.

"What?" asked Emily incredulously, chuckling, "Did you hit your head when you fell, Sarah? Come on, he's waiting."  
Before Sarah could mumble a "no", Emily grabbed her arm and pulled her onward towards the library. Clearly, Emily didn't notice that their whole campus looked like it was about to collapse.

"You have such a weird sense of humor, Sarah," Emily commented, "Pretending not to know your own boyfriend."

"What?" asked Sarah loudly as they entered the double doors leading to the library. Emily glared at her and pressed a finger to her lips, leading her to the right in the direction of the group study room. Sarah had never been inside, having always studied alone; she sucked in a breath as she entered, though it turned out to be relatively normal—a little room filled with cozy armchairs and tables for groups to sit at, though it was much darker than outside. She felt claustrophobic, like it was some sort of personal dungeon.

Emily lead her to a table near the back, where a tall young man with platinum blonde hair falling into dark gray eyes sat waiting for them. Sarah's jaw dropped. Emily didn't mean James _Bennett_?

At the suggestive look on James' face, though, Sarah concluded that Emily did. James Bennett was a year older than Sarah and Emily, and had been the highlight of Sarah's fantasies for a few months when she had begun at Boston. He was the perfect candidate for a crush: in addition to his good looks, he was intelligent and popular throughout campus.

He had even asked her out. After a few days together, however, he had dumped her for no discernable reason. Less than a week later, she had seen him walking across campus, arm in arm with another girl. By then, Sarah was used to disappointment, but she was still struck hard—in those days it seemed that no one would ever be interested in knowing her. Either way, it was nothing short of bizarre seeing him here, in this dream of hers, along with Emily, looking at her the way she had always wanted him to, however brief their involvement had been. Her stomach suddenly seemed full of butterflies, silly as it was.

What was worse was that all of that pain, all of that hurt—all of that loneliness apparently had nothing to do with who she truly was. She was finally starting to come to terms with what she had, for so long, denied…and understand why it had been that way. It didn't have to do entirely with who _she_ was, but whom she had made the mistake of entangling with.  
The butterflies turned into angry snakes in her stomach as she steadily grew more and more furious at these revelations. She frowned.

"Sarah, babe, is something wrong?" asked James, leaning to kiss her on her cheek. Shocked, Sarah froze for a moment, but then shook her head no and sat down at the table with her two companions. Both pulled out literature texts, but Sarah stared blankly at them.

"I forgot my books," she said lamely. Both of them looked at her with odd expressions, but Sarah shrugged, not knowing what else to do. As her two companions struck up a conversation, Sarah listened carefully, curious.

"I found her down over by Marsh Plaza," said Emily, glancing at Sarah.

"You shouldn't disappear on us like that," said James, taking Sarah's hand in his and smiling at her. Sarah nearly jumped at his touch and felt her cheeks grow warm.

"Seriously, he's right," said Emily, concerned, "You gave us a scare. I know it's only just past three, but it's a big campus, and seeing as we hadn't heard from you since yesterday...you just never know, Sarah."

Sarah looked over at Emily, who was watching her carefully. She felt strangely touched, but something was off. Sarah felt a pang in her heart as she once again forced herself back to reality—the care and concern in these two people's eyes wasn't genuine. It wasn't _real_. The Labyrinth was recreating two people Sarah remembered, had wanted to befriend and love, from her own life…and done it for her. It was magic at its cruelest, mocking her, making her realize that this dream wasn't real, and never would be.  
These two copies weren't the real Emily and James. She didn't know the real Emily and James, not really.  
But she had obviously wished she did.

Sarah felt her eyes well up with tears again. Though her heart ached with longing to stay with them, to bask in their familiarity and simultaneous foreignness, she just couldn't lie so thoroughly to herself.

"Sarah?" asked James, rubbing his thumb over her palm. Tears leaked from Sarah's eyes and she bit her lip, ignoring the alarmed looks from the friend and lover she never had or would have. She stood, dropping James's hand from hers, who looked at her in surprise. His handsome face showed deep concern. The magic was well done, after all.

"I have to go," Sarah whispered, "Goodbye."  
Without another word, Sarah spun on her heel and ran away again, bursting out of the group study room and then out of the library (noticing but choosing to ignore the evil looks from the illusions around her), and running into darkness.

Streaking across the campus, Sarah felt more than saw the illusion fade away this time, as the landscape grew darker and darker. She couldn't see where she was going, but she knew she was running the right way. The change didn't shock or scare her this time because she had learned what Jareth had wanted to teach her by feeding her her lost dreams—that she was alone, and by her own doing. Always alone.  
_He said he could be cruel._

Sarah slowed. She was in a narrow passageway now, still dark, but she could still see a familiar stone staircase at the end of the corridor. She reached the staircase, catching her breath for a moment, and then became to climb.

It took her shorter than she expected. After a few minutes, she reached the top, and looked in horror at a dizzyingly familiar scene that made her sick to her stomach.  
There she was, perched precariously on the edge of reason. She was in Jareth's Escher room again—the disorienting staircases just as absurdly placed as she remembered, meant to confuse and trick her from finding what she was supposed to find. But there was no Toby this time. He existed safely Aboveground _because_ of her, Sarah reminded herself. So what she supposed to look for? A door, an exit?

Sarah decided to go left, down a staircase and up another, and peered over the edge of the stair she was standing on, wanting to judge the distance. She nearly jumped out of her skin as she was thrown back into the nightmare of nine years ago.

Jareth, in all his black, sinister glory, stood beneath her, opposite her, defying gravity. Sarah's stomach lurched as he smirked at her cruelly, opening his mouth to speak.

_How you turned my world, you precious thing…_

He flew over her, weightless, and then appeared through another doorway. Sarah tried her best to ignore him, searching for Toby. If Jareth was here in her dream, then it had to be a repeat of what had transpired years ago. She had wanted so desperately to save Toby then—surely it had to be same?

_You starve and near exhaust me…_

He appeared behind her then, the hair standing upright on the back of her neck told her as much; she _felt_ him there, and she turned reluctantly, heart racing, as she knew what happened next. He walked towards her slowly, and then _through_ her as if she was no more than vapor.

_Everything I've done I've done for you…_

She turned to watch him, unable to stop herself from repeating what she had done the last time she had been here. She was too curious; too eager to find a change so she could understand where the way out was. His face twisted with an unfamiliar emotion as he continued.

_I move the stars for no one._

He dropped beneath her again and she ran thoughtlessly through the doorway to her right, hearing his voice echo behind her.

_You run so long, you run so far…_

She reached another teetering edge, and he was there.

_Your eyes can be so cruel._

For some reason, she couldn't look away from those strange eyes. He held up a crystal, sneering.

_Just as I can be so cruel._

He threw the crystal away from them, and Sarah's breathing quickened. She tore her eyes away from Jareth, searching…she knew this part…Toby was there, he had to be, he was the one who Jareth had thrown the crystal to…

_Oh, I do believe in you…_

He wasn't there.  
Toby wasn't there.  
_Where was he?_  
"Toby?" Sarah cried out pleadingly.

_Yes I do…_

Sarah felt her feet moving, felt herself sprinting in mindless directions, away from the sensuous voice ringing in her ears towards what she knew in her heart wasn't there.  
She searched for Toby anyway. He was the way out of this delusion in her memory, in her dream.

_Live without the sunlight…_

Her legs felt shaky, but she kept moving. The voice scared her, because she knew who it belonged to.

_Love without your heartbeat…_

Sarah stumbled, but drew herself back up, and made the mistake of turning in the wrong direction. She was no longer staring in the direction she thought Toby must be in, instead, her eyes had met Jareth's.

_I can't live within you._

He appraised her coldly, his eyes clouded with a burning question that Sarah felt she could not answer. She realized then, suddenly, forcefully, _painfully_ that her baby brother truly wasn't there. This was not a repeat of her dream. This was a copy, yes, recreated by the Labyrinth, but the copy had been altered the same as the others, and what she had once wanted was not the same as it had been. The only person there besides herself was Jareth.  
_The way out is what you wish for…what your heart desires most._

Sarah took a step back, and felt her foot reach the edge of the top stair she stood on.  
Amazingly, she kept her balance. Her eyes had not left Jareth's, and in that single moment she realized she was half an inch from falling, one way or the other. She made a choice.

She turned her back on him.

Jumping off the edge of the stair, she wished with all of her heart that her baby brother was still waiting for her at the bottom.  
As she fell, a tortured growl pierced the air around her and she heard the sound of shattering glass.

.

...

.

A/N: Well, that's Chapter 4! Here comes my usual plea for reviews! Haha, seriously, you'd make my day. Oh, that reminds me, thanks to everyone who reviewed last time. To **tmwillson3**, thanks! The whole story was sort of inspired by one song (coming chapter 10), and then kind of spiraled from there. And to **UndergroundDaydreams**, thanks as well - I completely agree, I don't think Jareth should _be_ ever totally figured out; and I can tell you that in this story, he won't be, not completely (at the very least, not for a while - but I wouldn't presume to know everything about the fair Goblin King, regardless, haha). Again, thanks all for your reviews, follows, and favorites!


	5. Hysteria

**Title:** _Muse  
_**Author:** RebelRebelMonster  
**Summary:** "I'm afraid, Sarah, dear, that you have no choice in the matter," replied Jareth, eyes twinkling. He lounged back in his armchair and casually pulled a crystal from thin air. It danced between his fingertips. "The Labyrinth—and I—have chosen you. You are, in every sense of the word, our muse."  
**Genre:** Romance/Drama  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own Labyrinth—thanks, Jim Henson and Co., for this compelling story.  
**A/N:** Hey fanfic friends - say hello to Chapter 5! To be brutally honest, I wasn't actually planning on updating today. In fact, I _should_ be writing cover letters right now, but I'm gonna call out recent reviewer **Devikali** and tell you that after getting their incredibly kind/inspiring review, I thought, what the heck. I'll update today. So thanks Devikali and everyone else who reviewed, as always, as well as those who follow and favorite! It really is motivating. See what reviews do, people? Haha ;) Anyway, onto chapter 5...hopefully you lot like it as much as Chapter 4, though I admit, I'm a little nervous about it, because this time, we're in Jareth's shoes! Eek. Anyway. Enough of my rambling. Onto the show...

Chapter 5  
**Hysteria**  
_It's bugging me, grating me_  
_And twisting me around_  
_Yeah I'm endlessly caving in_  
_And turning inside out…_  
_'Cause I want it now_  
_I want it now_  
_Give me your heart and your soul_  
_And I'm breaking out_  
_I'm breaking out_  
_Last chance to lose control_  
_("Hysteria", Absolution, __**Muse**__)_

Jareth the Goblin King was not adverse to revenge—not in the least bit. He was often sadistic, and he could be cruel, even drew pleasure from it when called for. It was in his nature, embedded deep within his race, as well as a part of his role as king. Thus, he had no reason to ever apologize for such actions, or worse, feel any sense of regret.

But when it came to the human Sarah Williams, Jareth grew hesitant. Though she was the one living creature that held considerable power over him, he found himself reluctant to punish her. She was an unyielding, fiery, annoyingly practical yet silly girl, but she was also kind-hearted, noble, and treacherously beautiful. She both tortured and fascinated him…all reasons for which he had fallen dangerously in love with her.

The mere human girl who had broken his entire Labyrinth; shattered his cold heart with six slow, meaningful words.  
…The girl walking toward him now.

Jareth looked up from his breakfast in the Great Hall to a stoic Sarah. She looked as lovely as ever in a luscious green gown that very obviously highlighted the fact that she had blossomed from girl to woman.

"Sarah," he murmured, inclining his head toward her, "Best get some breakfast, my dear.  
She hesitated. Jareth watched her carefully. She was terrible at hiding her emotions; he could easily see her wonder why he was so polite. Inwardly, he chuckled. Despite all the time that had passed, she still had so much to learn.  
At last, she moved forward again, her lips pulled into a firm line. He watched her as she sat next to him and began to help herself to breakfast.

"Eat up, Sarah," Jareth remarked, "You will need your strength."

"Will I?" asked Sarah, pausing her eating to take a sip of juice. Jareth noticed her hand was shaking slightly. The anger in her green eyes was palpable.

"Oh yes," continued Jareth, "You will be going through a foreign part of the Labyrinth today. You did not venture there on your last visit. So young then, it seemed hideously cruel to spoil you so soon. Had it not been for your brazen manner last night, I would've thought you were still too young to go there. Of course, your sentiments have proven me mistaken."

Jareth raised his glass to her before drinking the rest of its contents. His eyes never left hers as he observed her bite her lip in anger, seemingly restraining herself from raving at him. He smirked. He watched her closely as she finished the rest of her breakfast in strained silence.

Once she was finished, Jareth stood and pulled her chair out for her, offering her his hand. Reluctantly, she accepted. His lips curved into a roguish grin.

"You do look very well today, Sarah," he purred, yanking her close to him, "Regal, in fact."  
She struggled, but to his surprise, she instantly relaxed as soon as he performed the transportation spell, burying her face into his chest and closing her eyes. He chuckled. As they moved through time and space as freely as spirits, he wrapped one gloved hand around her small waist, cradling her head in the other.

In an instant, they were motionless, standing amidst green hedges in front of an aging door. The door that led to the Labyrinth's greatest but most terrible path…The Dream Roads.

Sarah moved against Jareth, peeking over his shoulder to see where he had taken her. Jareth looked down at her, surprised that she had not yet forced him off of her, and found himself mesmerized by her bright, curious, unabashedly _human_ eyes—human eyes that were the way they should be, wide-eyed in wonder. Of course, just at that moment, Sarah looked back up at him in horror, and he rearranged his stare into a mischievous grin. As expected, she scurried away from him.

Jareth smirked and strode forward, gesturing to the door with a flourish.  
"The entrance to the Dream Roads, Sarah," he drawled, "You will follow the path only, and you will remember this: the way out is what you _wish_ for."

"What I wish for?" she asked skeptically.

"Yes," Jareth said softly, turning the brass door handle, "What your heart desires most."  
He opened the door and leaned back against the green hedge next to it, arms folded smugly across his chest. With a satisfied smirk, he beckoned for her to walk through. Sarah narrowed her eyes at him before marching forward through the door and into the sunlight.  
After she disappeared from his sight underneath the burning sun, Jareth closed the door, slowly. The old oak groaned as it sealed itself shut. Jareth ran his gloved fingertips over the wood.

"Careful, Sarah, my love," he murmured, "I cannot save you from yourself."

With a sigh, Jareth turned on the spot, and disappeared. Mere moments later, he sat carelessly atop his throne, alone. Normally, Jareth's goblin subjects kept to the city, unless they had business with the King or court was being held. Only when a runner occupied the Labyrinth did they truly try and vacate the entire maze. That was when many of them congregated in the throne room, excited at the prospect of another taken child.  
Sarah, though, was no longer a runner. Not to mention, his goblin subjects never dared enter the Dream Roads. She would be quite alone, and so would he.

Jareth had never walked the Dream Roads—not in his given form, at least. He had traveled over them as an owl, but he felt no pull to enter them. The magic they held would show him nothing but green hedges, the same as the rest of that part of the Labyrinth. Jareth was the Dream Giver; he had no dreams of his own.

Not to mention, he knew the deceit of the promise the Dream Roads made—they did not just _show_ dreams, they also destroyed them. He had designed them to do so.  
His thoughts wandering, Jareth twisted his fingers and formed a crystal in his hand. Running his thumb over the smooth surface, he closed his eyes and thought of Sarah.  
After a split-second, he opened his eyes only to see the same empty, shining crystal sitting still in his palm.

"Bugger," he growled, shaking the crystal slightly. Still, it remained empty. Jareth sighed. He had known that it was unlikely that he would be able to view Sarah while she traveled the length of her own dreams, but he had thought that since they were linked by the magic of the Labyrinth that perhaps she might be an exception to the rule.

Jareth could never truly see a human's dreams. He could only offer them. Only then, once a human accepted him, was he allowed to see what a person truly wanted. The only loophole in this rule of magic was if a human dreamed of him—which was, truth be told, an often occurrence. He was accustomed to playing a large role in a person's nightmares. He was both the Dream Giver and the Boogeyman, no matter how humans imagined him.

Jareth was broken from his reverie by the sound of rough footsteps approaching. Looking up, he saw a small, wiry goblin called Gregnok rushing forward, his head bowed as if he brought bad news.

Gregnok was Jareth's chief of staff. He oversaw the running of the castle, and had those in charge of keeping the peace in the city report to him before they lodged any worry or complaint to the King. When he reached Jareth's throne, his knees bent into a low bow.

"Your majesty," he croaked slowly, "The dwarf demands an audience with you."

"The dwarf?" Jareth asked coldly.  
Gregnok nodded, looking up at Jareth.  
"The human girl's dwarf, my King."  
Scowling, Jareth nodded in compliance, and then waved away Gregnok in a clear dismissal. Nearly as soon as Gregnok had disappeared past the door, Hoggle sidled in wearing a wrinkled frown.

"Hedgewart, how lovely of you to drop by," Jareth issued smoothly, setting the crystal on his throne as he stood to address the dwarf, "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"It's _Hoggle_," growled the dwarf, clearly irate. He balled his stubby fingers into fists. "And you know why I'm here, Jareth! Where's Sarah?"

"My dear Higwiggle," began Jareth dangerously, his eyes flashing, "I believe I remember warning you what would happen if I detected even a hint of defiance from you concerning the lady last time we met."

"Yeah, I remember," affirmed Hoggle, "That was before you as good as killed her!"

Neither party spoke. Hoggle had thrown a dagger at his King, and they both knew it. Hoggle was frozen, breathing roughly from his outburst, watching and waiting for Jareth to strike him down. The Goblin King stood, unmoving, like a statue. Finally, he shifted his body into a regal position, hands behind his back and head held high. His eyes were trained on the angry little dwarf in front of him, lips set in a firm line.

"My dear Hoghead," he whispered slowly, "There is much you seem to take for granted. This is very unwise. If I had ever wanted to have a hand in dear Sarah's death, her body would already be cold."

"You threw her to the dogs," growled Hoggle, taking a daring step forward, "She won't ever be the same after she's been in there. You'll have ruined her."

"Silence!" roared Jareth, "For someone who has seen the truth of dreams that become poisoned, you understand nothing, dwarf! I will have _taught_ her, the same as I have taught all the others—including _you_."

Hoggle took a step back, frightened. Gossip traveled as rapidly as scurrying mice in the Underground, and the moment he had heard where Jareth was planning to take Sarah, he knew he had to defend her. He had never seen the Goblin King so angry, but he had to stand his ground. For Sarah, he had to. She was his only friend, and he had already done too much to forsake that. He could not let her suffer the same fate he had; he couldn't let anything tarnish that shining hope in her that made her so special.

"Sarah cannot hope to survive as a human in the Underground without knowing the meaning of cruelty; the importance of understanding that though dreams may never come true, they are not lost, that they _change_," said Jareth, "Humans naturally resist what is inevitable, the passing of time and change; and worse, they deny their pain. Sarah must confront hers before she can be responsible for the task that will be entrusted to her."

"But she doesn't belong here!" shouted Hoggle, "You just want to keep her for yourself! You want to _play_ with her, turn her into something twisted and _wrong_, and when you're finally bored you'll just..."  
Hoggle couldn't finish—Jareth had said nothing to interrupt his tirade, but with the quickness of a ghost, he had slipped forward so he was towering right over the small man, his features livid with anger.

"There is much about sweet Sarah you do not comprehend, dwarf," Jareth drawled, his voice as hard and cold as ice. "She is not here for some trifle plot of vengeance, nor is she here for a mere 13 hours. She is here for lifetime. It is resolute, unchangeable, and that is all you ever need know. I care nothing for your pitiful anger or your feelings for her. Sarah never has been, and never will be your concern."  
Hoggle opened his mouth to speak, but the look on Jareth's face stopped him.

"Sarah's affection for you saved you and your treacherous friends from the worst of my wrath last time," Jareth said coldly, "But mark my words, Hegwig, it will not suffice much longer. Speak out of turn again and I will do much worse than throw you into the Bog of Eternal Stench, or even imprison you in the Dream Roads for all eternity. I promise you that."

Hoggle's face fell and slowly, he nodded, defeated. He turned to leave, but was distracted by a strange sound. Jareth turned and saw the crystal lying atop of his throne spinning madly across the surface. Jareth's eyes widened, and he reached out his arm. The crystal flew obediently into his palm.

"Out!" shouted Jareth to Hoggle, who ran at the sight of Jareth's twisted face. After the dwarf had sprinted away, Jareth peered into the crystal, his heart pumping wildly in excitement. There was only one way he was now allowed to see Sarah…

She was dreaming of him.

The scene within the crystal was a familiar one. Inside the shining orb, he saw her in his inspired Escher room, searching in vain for her baby brother. It was the same as it had been those many years ago, only now she was a woman, and the lively little chap known as Toby was not there. Puzzled, Jareth watched the scene closely, clutching the crystal tightly between his fingertips. It seemed exactly as he remembered it, only now Sarah was much older. Here, in this dream, the difference was undeniable. He watched her peer over the edge of one of the hanging staircases, and to his slight surprise, he saw himself emerge on the other side. He heard his own voice.

_How you turned my world, you precious thing…_

Jareth closed his eyes in concentration, and when he opened them again, he was seeing Sarah from his eyes in her dream. He could not feel his body move, could not understand what this dream version of him was doing as he could not actively take its place, but he could see her much better now, as if he was standing there with her.

_You starve and near exhaust me._

Internally, Jareth smirked. Sarah was behaving as she did the time before this, but soon she would see that Toby was not there to find. This was not a replica of what had transpired those years ago; this was happening _now_, and the Labyrinth was forcing her to see what she truly wanted. She continued to run from him, to run from what she _really_ wanted, but soon she would realize that _he_ was that. He was the way out, because Jareth was what she was wishing for.

For what, he could not know for certain, but it was a beginning, one he had been hoping for.  
The hunter inside Jareth purred in delight.

Inside her dream, Jareth watched as his dream body pursued her as she searched for her infant brother. He waited with bated breath for the moment she would understand.

_Your eyes can be so cruel…_

Any moment now, Jareth thought, Sarah was a bright girl…denial could only take her so far….  
He observed Sarah look around wildly, eyes searching for the baby, but the Labyrinth's dream was true, and no child existed in it. She called to the boy in desperation.

"Toby?" her voice echoed. When she didn't find him, she fled Jareth's searching eyes anyway. He paid this no mind. Her resolve was weakening. The reality was pressing in on her. She only had a little time left.

_Live without the sunlight…_

Jareth couldn't take his eyes off of her as she moved frantically, running from her own dream, frightened of her own desire. His heart leapt when he heard his own voice utter the final words.

_I can't live within you._

He stopped breathing the instant the change happened. Instead of seeing Toby, Sarah turned to him, met his gaze, and he watched the realization dawn on her face. Through the looking glass, he saw her stare back at him, finally knowing the answer to the riddle.  
Without warning, she took a step backwards, turned her back on him, and jumped off the edge to where, years ago, Toby would have sat waiting.

Jareth felt an inhuman roar erupt from his chest, he blinked, and he was out of her dream, back in his throne room, and in his pain he smashed the crystal, shards flying everywhere.

Within an instant, he was swirling, moving through time and space, searching, searching for her. Finally, he could see her small frame falling through her dream, darkness and a myriad of colors closing in all around her. He moved soundlessly to where she was and grabbed her. He pulled her to him, one hand on her waist, the other holding her face very close to his own, _gently_, _gently_, he reminded himself.

Her eyes were wide, unbelieving that he could accompany her as she fell slowly from dreams to reality, but she didn't make a sound.  
"Sarah," he said slowly, his voice past dangerous, eyes glinting with raw, uncontainable pain, "That was not the way out."  
With that, he let her go, let her fall, and wished for nothing else but to forget Sarah Williams for a while.

.

...

.

**A/N:** And there's chapter 5. Despite some rehashed material, I hope you all still enjoyed getting a glimpse into Jareth's mind. He is fascinating after all, is he not? And here comes my usual second plea for reviews! Seriously, we're getting closer and closer to where I'm currently at writing the story, and I'd love for all of the updates to continue to be as frequent, and reviews help the writing process! Not to mention, the next few chapters leading up to Chapter 10 (which I just finished) are...intense. I promise that's not a bribe, it's just true. Stuff. Goes. **_Down._** Haha but still, thanks to everyone who did review, favorite and follow! To reviewer , I feel fine saying: you're not overanalyzing, and if you were, that would still be okay, because you're absolutely right about Sarah and children! Not too much of a spoiler, promise, and very astute of you to notice. Anyway, all of you are the best. Till next time ~ _RebelRebel_


	6. Supermassive Black Hole

**Title:** Muse  
**Author:** RebelRebelMonster  
**Summary:** "I'm afraid, Sarah, dear, that you have no choice in the matter," replied Jareth, eyes twinkling. He lounged back in his armchair and casually pulled a crystal from thin air. It danced between his fingertips. "The Labyrinth—and I—have chosen you. You are, in every sense of the word, our muse."  
**Genre:** Romance/Drama  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own Labyrinth—thanks, Jim Henson and Co., for this compelling story.  
**A/N:** It's been over a week, right? So I'm not jumping the gun by posting chapter 6 already? Great! This quick update was all due to the amazing reviews, follows, and favorites, so keep it up if you want these to continue! Anyway, onto Chapter 6...

Chapter 6  
**Supermassive Black Hole**  
_I thought I was a fool for no one_  
_Ooo baby I'm a fool for you_  
_You're the queen of the superficial_  
_And how long before you tell the truth?_  
_You set my soul alight_  
_You set my soul alight_  
_Glaciers melting in the dead of night_  
_And the superstars sucked into the supermassive_  
_Supermassive black hole…_  
_(Supermassive Black Hole, "Black Holes and Revelations", __**Muse**__)_

Sarah was still falling. She had jumped, fled from her dream, and she was still falling in between blinding colors and menacing shadows, not knowing whether gravity existed and quite ready to believe she would die just from falling.

Then, something strange happened. Stranger than her never-ending trek down, down, _down_—and much more frightening than the Labyrinth's cruel twist on her cursed dreams.  
Suddenly, Jareth was _there_.

As soon as he grabbed her and held her close to him, she knew this was not the Jareth of her dream, not the Jareth of the past. This was the Goblin King of the present, falling with her, and from the look on his face; she knew he was not there to save her from her rash decision to jump. To _flee_.

"Sarah," he said slowly, his voice past dangerous, eyes glinting with raw, uncontainable pain, "That was not the way out."

Sarah opened her mouth to speak, but he vanished, and in what felt like hours and mere moments, she hit the ground with a thud, landing sorely on her bottom. She looked up. Judging from her aching backside, it felt as if she had only fallen from a few feet at most, but she knew that wasn't possible. Had she really even been falling at all, or had that too been an illusion?

Now she sat in a dark, near black hole. The only source of light came from a hole high above her, and it shone on her face, too bright in her eyes. Everything around her was black. She couldn't see her own arms if she held them out in front of her.

She was in an oubliette. She heard Hoggle's voice ringing distantly in her ears.  
_It's a place you put people…to forget about 'em!  
_Jareth wanted to forget about her.

Sarah's small face contorted into a grimace. If he was so angry, couldn't he forget about her while she was safe living her life in the Aboveground?

Sarah didn't know how long she sat there, doing nothing, her mind numb. Eventually she figured that not moving wasn't really doing her much good—she'd be damned if she sat around waiting like a good prisoner for her captor to retrieve her when _he_ wanted.

Not happy at all and refusing point-blank to think about the dream that had ignited the Goblin King's fury, Sarah chose to look for a way out of this grubby little hole. Last time she had been in one, Hoggle had found a door…she could do the same, couldn't she?  
_Maybe._

Using her hands to feel the dirty floor around her, she moved forward slowly, searching for a wall. After a few seconds, her hands met something hard, and she was able to use the wall to prop herself up. She had left the small circle of light behind her, and was now encompassed in complete darkness. Sarah gulped and resolved to try very hard not to think about it.

Totally blind, she reached out both hands, still steady against the wall, and wondered whether to go right or left. She strained her ears to listen for any sound, hoping one direction would win over the other.

_Never go that way_, called a memory inside her head. She decided to take the worm's advice, and chose left.

Using the wall to guide her forward, Sarah moved. Slowly but surely, she waited to feel the curve of the hole. Surely since the oubliette was just a hole in the ground meant for putting people, the wall would begin to feel circular, wouldn't it?

Sarah wasn't keen on going round and round for ages, but to her surprise, the wall never turned. Straight as a board, she followed the wall, all the while wondering nervously just where she might end up.

**.**

**...**

**.**

The word throughout the Goblin City that evening was synonymous.

_Stay far away from the Castle_. For, after a pleasantly raucous day in the city (the way goblins preferred their days to be), at a time nearing dusk, without any warning whatsoever, nearly every goblin in the city who lived near the castle yelped in fear as they heard a sound that thoroughly set them ill at ease…an anguished roar, and the sharp shattering sound of breaking glass.

Goblins by nature were cleverer than they looked or were perceived in faerie stories in the Aboveground, and they had more than enough sense to conclude who could make such a sound. The word spread rapidly. Clearly, their King was in no mood to be trifled with. That was why, just after the moon rose that night, every goblin interested in protecting their hide gave the castle a wide berth.

Indeed, Jareth was quite alone inside his castle, which, truth be told, was probably for the best. Torturing innocent goblins wasn't very productive behavior when he was truly angry with a very infuriating, very lovely human woman.

Having abandoned his throne room for the more private refuge that was his vast library, Jareth's normally casual stance had all but evaporated and in its stead he sat stiffly in a random armchair, the tension in his body language giving away his fury.  
"Foolish, stubborn girl," he muttered to himself, "Intent on driving me barking mad."

Curling his fingers around the arms of the soft chair, Jareth launched himself up and forward. He couldn't sit any longer; couldn't remain immobile. He began to pace wildly across the library floor while his thoughts spun in all directions faster than the speed of sound.

Sarah had deliberately turned her back on him, knowing full well that _she_ was the one wishing for him to be her rescuer, to be the way out of her nightmare. Her stubbornness aggravated him to no end, but her blatant refusal stung him much more than anything else she could throw at him.

_Why?_ He hadn't even anticipated that she might dream of him, and now that she had—and in such an obvious way—he had expected at least some level of acceptance from her. That wish had been shattered just as fast as the crystal he had been holding, which had borne some nasty cuts on his left hand. Thankfully, he was adept enough at righting small injuries not to need to call Rowan, his healer.

What was it? What was frightening her away?

She could hardly still use the excuse that he had stolen her brother; she had _asked_ him to do so. The girl had no understanding of the power of a few words. He had let her battle his Labyrinth to reclaim the boy, hadn't he? That was all he could ever have allowed; the laws of magic were resolute.

His giving her the enchanted peach, perhaps? But even there, he believed himself faultless. It was in his nature to be devious; he was Fae, after all, and he remembered Sarah's fantasy of the ballroom better than anyone. Those human eyes of hers hid nothing; the look of her blatant fascination had haunted him for years. That stolen hour was solid proof of her obvious attraction to him, even then, when she was on the cusp of womanhood. Their previous interaction in the library was another shining scrap of evidence. If anything, those two incidents should have been bringing her closer to him. This dream of hers, one in which she was meant to choose him, well, that was just another piece of proof. That, surely, could not be the reason.  
Why, then? _Why?_

Jareth had never prepared himself to be in a position where he was a fool for anyone. That was, of course, before he had met Sarah Williams.

Jareth's pacing began to slow, until quite abruptly, he stopped altogether, stock-still in the middle of the room. He frowned. Sarah was undoubtedly stubborn, and though he was very capable of being angry with her, he could not seem to love her any less.  
It was maddening.

He sighed, gazing at nothing in particular, trying to come to grips with the myriad of feelings within him that, at times, threatened to overcome his careful control. Even after the many years in which he had waited for Sarah, it was still somewhat foreign to him, this concept of love.  
The Fae were not quick to love, after all, quite the opposite of humankind. Instead, they were cold, calculating; unfeeling in ways. Their detached nature was what had allowed them to abandon the Aboveground altogether, and it was what made most believe that they had nothing they could learn from humanity—and so they were superior.

But, for his kind, Jareth had always been different. It was why he was the Goblin King, purveyor of dreams and of nightmares; the man who took children from their mothers.

Love was a tenuous thing, something he felt burning within him so hot it would scald, but also something he could scarcely comprehend. Love was not logic, it was unbridled emotion.  
Perhaps the most puzzling part about love for Jareth was that, for him, much of it up till now had meant only pain. Pain that he endured solely for the promise of exhilaration, even if it only ever amounted to a few stolen moments.

Truthfully, he was not even sure how he had come to love Sarah, only certain that he did. When he thought back to when she had been just another runner, he could hardly recall the progression of his feelings well enough to pinpoint just _when_ he had started to love her. Those 13 hours seemed like fat dollops of time that would _drip_, _drop_ into an outstretched palm, only to slip through the cracks of the fingers; of his memory.

He recalled meeting her, of course, the same way he met countless foolish others who wished away someone. There had been nothing particularly extraordinary about her then; in truth, she had been a rather dramatic, spoiled thing. Beyond that, his thoughts surrounding Sarah were limited to thinking of ways to thwart her progress to the center of his Labyrinth, and on what to do with her brother once she failed.

It wasn't until his tête-à-tête with her and the dwarf that he took any real notice of her. Not much had changed, really; she was still haughty and proud in the face of her opponent, and when he had subtracted hours from her allotted 13, as expected, she grew even more petulant. What was curious about her, however, was her ability to charm others—something he had first noticed happen between her and the dwarf, but which then blossomed into several residents of his Labyrinth not only letting her pass safely, but actually _helping_ her make her way to the castle. This was something unprecedented; to charm the likes of the grumbling dwarf, the duty-bound knight, and, perhaps most curiously, the once ferocious beast.

And so, he began to watch her more closely. Her ability to befriend was nothing compared to his power, after all. In the Labyrinth, he was ruler.

He quickly surmised that despite their tentative friendship, he could easily use Hoggle to stall her progress. He conjured a dream meant just for her, then, and gave it to Hoggle to give to her…  
_W-what is it?_ the dwarf had asked.  
_It's a present.  
_Indeed it had been…

Perhaps it had happened before he even realized. Perhaps he, like the other inhabitants of his Labyrinth, had been charmed by Sarah in a way he could not explain easily. The only thing he was certain of now was his progression from indifference to relishing antagonizing her, and the disappointment when she fled his arms in the dream he had spun just for her. In the end, that disappointment became an agony deeper than anything he had felt in centuries when she rejected him.

His frown deepened, becoming a scowl. She had been too young then, that much had been clear, though she had been of age for courtship here in the Underground. Nevertheless, the rejection had wounded him and his pride, and it still pressed in on his heart like a thorn of iron.

It no longer mattered. Enough time had passed now that revisiting old wounds was pointless as well as unnecessarily painful. Sarah was here now, and she would remain here, with him. Even if she never grew to love him back, he at least would know she was not doomed to a life of madness in the world of humans.

Without thinking, he twisted his fingers, conjuring a crystal with ease, his thoughts still swirling around his dark-haired human. He glanced at the crystal to see how she was faring in the oubliette.

For the second time that day, Jareth felt the crystal smash between the hard grip of his gloved fingertips, only now his heart seized with panic, not rage. In a flash, he turned on the spot and vanished.

**. **

**...**

**.**

Sarah felt as if she had been traveling against the wall of what had been an oubliette for hours when she finally noticed a difference. The darkness that surrounded her was growing denser, as if light could not hope to penetrate it. Her footsteps, before moving along soundlessly, had begun to echo. She slowly understood that the passage she had been traveling along was opening up and becoming much, much bigger.

Frightened, Sarah's pace quickened. Goosebumps had risen on her skin, and in her haste, she tripped and fell forward, catching herself in time to prevent her face hitting the ground. She fell forward farther than anticipated, and was met with shock when she burst into an open cavern dancing with light.

Sarah rose on shaky legs, pressing her back to the wall for support once more. She gazed around in wonder. She had stumbled into a giant cave, its ceiling too high up to make out. Thousands of stars, so bright they permeated the darkness, glittered from the same indiscernible height, forcing Sarah to wonder if she had made it back outside in the open air. She had never seen stars in the Underground. It always made the place seem even more bizarre.

There had been no hint of light before she fell; how could she have just stumbled into this place so easily? Despite her growing fear, Sarah couldn't seem to think clearly. The stars seemed to flicker innocently above her, dancing across what she thought the sky. It looked like they were descending. Sarah breathed them in, and they seemed to move closer.

With a jolt of realization, Sarah peered closer as what she thought must be stars approached.  
_Faeries._

Instantly, Sarah drew slightly back, pushing her back even further up against the dirt wall. The last time she had visited the Underground, a faerie had bitten her. These faeries, though, seemed vastly different from the light-haired little one she had thought she had saved from Hoggle.

Slowly sinking closer to her, these faeries radiated a soft, bright light, as if their skin was made of diamonds. They danced through the air gracefully on rose-colored wings that seemed as if they had been spun from silk sprinkled with shimmering dewdrops. As they drew even closer to her, Sarah was able to make out the one closest, their clear leader.

No bigger than the length of Sarah's palm and seemingly fragile, she wore only a bit of pearly white fabric, covering her from her chest down to mid-thigh. Wild dark hair surrounded her angelic face like a lioness's mane, and placed directly on the top of her head was a beaded, glittering crown to match her opulent skin.

She was the most beautiful creature Sarah had ever laid eyes upon, apart from perhaps the Goblin King himself, and despite the warning bells going off in her head; she could do nothing but stare at her. Finally, she drew close enough to touch. Without thinking, Sarah reached out her hand. The faerie smiled, and landed softly on her palm.

"Little human," said the faerie, nodding her head in acknowledgement. Sarah was surprised—she had expected the faerie's voice to be high-pitched and musical, but instead, she spoke in a low, guttural tone. The other faeries, this queen's companions, flickered like fireflies around them anxiously. Sarah's fear was mounting, but she could still not tear her eyes away, or muster up the courage to try and leave.

"This is a place one can only find if it is the right time," rasped the faerie. She seemed to glide across Sarah's palm as if she was dancing, but her face never turned from Sarah's. There was something dangerous lurking behind her large, dark eyes. The grace with which she moved unnerved Sarah.

"You, human, seek escape, though not from what you choose to see," continued the faerie, "You dance between enemy and lover."

Sarah waited for the faerie to continue speaking, but she said no more. She only smiled mysteriously, still breathtakingly radiant. For some inexplicable reason, Sarah's heart was still threatening to spasm with fear. And yet, she couldn't seem to get her limbs moving.  
_What is she waiting for?_ Sarah thought.

Finally, the faerie spoke.  
"I can show you the way out," she said slowly, clearly.

For some reason, Sarah couldn't find her voice. Should she trust her? The weight in her stomach indicated not to, but what choice did she have? If the faerie had thought to harm her, wouldn't the whole swarm have attacked her by now? The seconds ticked by, the faerie waiting patiently, and Sarah's stomach twisted into knots.  
Finally, Sarah nodded.

The faerie's smile widened. She reached behind her back and pulled out a fine, silvery gossamer thread that seemed to come right from her left wing. Still smiling, she bent her knees, lowering her tiny winged body to crouch on Sarah's palm. With one delicate hand, the other holding the thread, she traced Sarah's lifeline. She looked up at her, black eyes fathomless.  
"Touch," she murmured.  
She carefully placed the thread so that it mirrored the line in Sarah's palm.

Sarah felt the pain before she could summon anything else. Pain in her knees told her that she had sunk to the floor, but it was nothing to the white-hot pain boiling underneath every inch of her skin. The only urge she felt was to rip the thread from her, which felt as if it was now slowly coursing through her veins like liquid.

Her eyes only lasted a few seconds before she closed them in defeat, but just before she saw the faerie fluttering above her, smiling, her lips moving. Sarah couldn't make out anything she might've said. Her ears could no longer hear; her eyes were forced shut so she couldn't see. Her brain felt disconnected from her body, and all she could comprehend was the burning so hot that it was cold. She felt the pain, thinking it would be endless...and then, without warning, the pain was nothing. Nothing compared to a new ache deeper than anything physical.

Behind her eyes burst a parade of endless faces from the blackness, all of them calling out to her in shrieking cries that would make anyone's skin crawl. Sarah tried to call back to them, to reach out to them, even; but she still couldn't seem to move a muscle. Everything hurt all over as waves and waves of ghosts passed her by, still crying, still calling her name. They moved so fast that Sarah couldn't make out their faces to see if she recognized any of them.  
_What do you want?_ she thought hopelessly, trying to scream. It felt as if her mouth was glued shut.

They kept streaking past her, past her range of comprehension so quickly she could not understand who they were or why she was seeing them now, so minutely, without any reason. They passed as if being stolen away, as if the darkness surrounding them swallowed them whole.

The experience was, at best, similar to a dream, visions so fleeting she wasn't sure they were at all real. But she knew, instinctively, she was not dreaming. She did not feel so acutely during a dream; was not so painfully aware of her own feelings, or those of others. _Was that where the pain was coming from?_ she thought absentmindedly, _does it hurt so much because they're in pain?_

The parade of others began to slow as Sarah felt the pain begin to lessen slightly, and as they moved more slowly, less and less came, until finally, only one was left. Finally, she could make out this tortured life's face.

This man's face was not human, no, not like the others. His features were unnaturally still, and yet, he looked much more alive than the marred faces of those that came before him. A swath of emotions consumed Sarah as she stared into his mismatched eyes.

Then and there, Sarah truly seized, truly rebelled, but only because she hated how wrong she had been; hated herself for what she _wanted_. She wanted to scream her refusal, wanted to return to the white-hot burning of the thread in her skin, for the thread had finally connected to the darkest corner of her mind, her heart, and she did not want to see the connection; the realization.  
The man sneered at her, and she felt both sick and pleased.

Then, quite suddenly, the darkness swallowed her too. She had no time for relief. She was gone.

**.**

**...**

**.**

A/N: Ooooo, what happened to Sarah? Find out in Chapter 7! Let me know your thoughts on Chapter 6 in the meantime, won't you? Last time they got me writing Chapter 11 furiously... -wink- But in all seriousness, thank you all for your continued support in the form of reviews, follows and favorites! You're the best! Till next time - _RebelRebel_


	7. Blackout

**Title:** _Muse  
_**Author:** RebelRebelMonster  
**Summary:** "I'm afraid, Sarah, dear, that you have no choice in the matter," replied Jareth, eyes twinkling. He lounged back in his armchair and casually pulled a crystal from thin air. It danced between his fingertips. "The Labyrinth—and I—have chosen you. You are, in every sense of the word, our muse."  
**Genre:** Romance/Drama  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Labyrinth_—thanks, Jim Henson and Co., for this compelling story.  
**A/N:** Hey all! Very short chapter, chapter 7. Sorry about that...I promise that's just due to pacing, nothing more. Like I've said in the past, much of this fic is already written (this chapter included). But hey, if I get the incredible response I got from Chapter 6 (thanks to all of your fantastic reviews, follows and favorites, by the way!), perhaps I will be more inclined to post Chapter 8 sooner. Or right away, haha. As long as I stay well ahead of you guys I'm good. Anyway, without further ado...

Chapter 7  
**Blackout  
**_Don't kid yourself  
__And don't fool yourself  
__This life could be the last  
__And we're too young to see…  
__(Blackout, "Absolution", __**Muse)**_

Gregnok was an important goblin. _So important_, he thought grumpily as he descended the steps of the castle into the still city, _that he was required to stay at the castle until after dark_.

Being the Goblin King's chief of staff usually required working until a late hour, and Gregnok was not usually so opposed, but his wife Brina was with child and he wanted to get home early to be with her. If only the kitchen goblins didn't get so reckless all over a bit of pudding.

Gregnok sighed, scratching his head. Working long days at the castle was necessary if he was going to provide for his growing family. This was his and Brina's first, so he was especially nervous...he hadn't even told the King yet. Regardless, he was sure he would be accommodating. Whatever was said about the fearsome Goblin King, he was certainly a powerful yet passionate creature. Much more so than the rest of his kind.  
Gregnok found the King's temper especially amusing whenever he was raging over the human girl (though of course, he was never so foolish to display his mirth in front of His Majesty).

Gregnok hurriedly made his trek home, quirking a lopsided grin at the thought of Jareth and his human queen, Sarah. Perhaps Jareth would be the next to expect a growing family. Gregnok's thoughts were interrupted a few steps from his front door. Goosebumps protruded all over Gregnok's tough skin as a sudden chill stole over the once warm autumn evening. He froze.  
Before he could investigate the abrupt change in temperature further, Brina opened the window to their cottage and waved to him.

"Gregnok, what are you-?"

"Shh," Gregnok interrupted, "Do you feel the chill? Something...is not right. Something is wrong."

Brina frowned and mimicked Gregnok by looking around the area for a change in the night. Nothing moved on their street. The city was motionless.  
Then, quite distinctly, both goblins' large ears perked up at a new sound. Their beady eyes followed their ears, and they looked up.

High above them, flying slowly in traveling circles, was the Goblin King. Unearthly magic carried him and his burden across the sky as if gravity didn't exist. In his arms lay the small body of the human girl, her face stark white against the King's dark cloak and armor.

She looked barely alive.

The sound Gregnok and Brina had heard was an ethereal, mournful waltz pouring from the King's lips in a language neither goblin understood. The music the King sang brought a dense cold to Gregnok's very bones. It reached over the entire city; the entire Labyrinth in one sweeping melody that spoke only of the deepest agony. The wind whipped his cloak around him frantically, making him look impressive and foreboding, encompassed in a cloak of magic.  
The dark god carrying home his ailing princess.

Gregnok had never seen the King travel so slowly, so cautiously. He was much more prone to appearing where he wanted to in an instant.  
…The girl must have been very weak to have him moving so carefully.

All around Gregnok and Brina, doors and windows from other goblin households were bursting open, their owners wondering aloud what was going on. All fell silent when they saw the King.

Little by little, the King reached his castle, and it wasn't until long after he disappeared with the girl inside did the goblins retreat to their warm homes.

**.**

**…**

**.**

It was a sight he had seldom seen; could scarcely have imagined happening to a human. He had found her in the cave with mere moments to act. Upon seeing her, his heart pounded feverishly within his chest. He had reached her just as the convulsing began to slow.

Jareth knelt next to Sarah and hurriedly threw out his hands over her still shaking body. He was just happy she was still capable of movement. Her eyes were closed; her skin damp with cold perspiration; her lips a startling, sickening blue.

Sarah lay on the dirty floor of the cavern, hundreds of silvery threads shining through her skin, embedded inside, piercing her with a rare, formidable magic. _Magic not meant for her_, Jareth thought savagely, _too strong, and totally unnecessary_.

At the sight of him, the faeries scattered, though the Queen waited, poised, watching him attempt to contain the magic spreading throughout Sarah with his hands. He paid her no mind. He would deal with her later.

This would take his sole concentration. He hastily peeled off his leather gloves and threw them aside. He reached with his consciousness, pulling, tugging, until he caught a single thread of the magic with both his hand and his mind. He did not need to touch Sarah, only feel for the magic stirring around her; inside her.

He allowed his body to absorb the magical current of the thread he had captured. His was much more equipped to handle such trembling force. He felt the sparks through his fingertips, and slowly, _slowly_, the lines illuminating Sarah's veins began to fade; retreat. The magic pulsed angrily at him, but he held it in control.  
A bead of sweat formed on his brow.

He found the source of the magic; where it had spread like a disease through this limp human's body. A tiny pinprick in Sarah's palm was the only flicker of light left, and then, like extracting poison from a wound, Jareth was able to pull the thread of magic from her palm and into his own.  
Finally, thankfully, she was something like a human again.

The magic had pooled into his hand to resemble one of his own crystals, but not empty or full of dreams. The substance of the orb he held suspended over his palm was like light made liquid; a molten silver, gurgling in anger at its keeper.  
The magic had wanted that girl.

Jareth let go of the magic; let it escape his powerful hands outside of Sarah's body. Without the thread, the magic had no host, and would return to its dark home caged inside the Labyrinth. It became wind, or something like it, and moved around him in the empty cavern as a gentle breeze before it was swallowed by the cold darkness.  
For a few moments, Jareth did not do or say anything.

Shimmering behind him, Queen Lilu waited, dancing on the air. She knew why the King was silent. _Control_.

Jareth continued to ignore the little faerie, picking up Sarah and cradling her in his arms. He smoothed the hair back from her forehead. It was drenched in cold sweat. He touched her lips briefly with his forefinger, hoping to bring some warmth back to the young woman's tortured body.  
With a great effort, he turned to meet the faerie's coy smile.

"You will pay for this insolence," he murmured, his voice silky, low, dangerous. The faerie's smile did not change.

"Your Majesty," she replied, inclining her head to him.

**.**

**…**

**.**

"Out of my way, dwarf!" growled a murderous Goblin King. Hoggle hesitated, unsure of whether or not he ought to step aside as the King rushed forward, Sarah's limp body in his arms. He had seen, just the same as every other inhabitant of the Goblin City, the King's struggle to bring her here. He was afraid of what had happened, of what Jareth might have done to her. And so he had waited, steeling himself at the entrance to Jareth's throne room, ready to protect Sarah.

Hoggle needn't have worried. Jareth had spent much of his own power to ensure that Sarah's life last through the night, and much longer afterwards. He had found her, through lucky chance; had dispelled the poisonous magic surging through her body with great effort.  
He had even had to bend gravity to his will, slowly, _gently_, as to not overwhelm Sarah's overwrought body as he brought her back to the castle.  
And then, naturally, the Goblin King had entered his castle, so _close_ to relief, to be bombarded with the curses of an irate Hoggle anxiously awaiting his and Sarah's return.

He had entered the castle through the large window that opened into his throne room. It was centrally located, which would mean he was close to both his healer and a place to deposit the ailing human. Predictably, the irksome dwarf thought to block him from his goal by hovering around in an attempt to _save_ Sarah from him. The irony would compel him to chuckle with mirth if it wasn't so bloody infuriating.

"What have you done to her?" asked Hoggle forcefully, throwing out his tiny arms in a pitiful attempt to stop Jareth from taking Sarah to his chief healer. Of course, Hoggle did not know this. He assumed Jareth had caused Sarah's coma-like state.  
If he hadn't have been holding Sarah carefully in his arms, Jareth would have made to strike the little dwarf down. Instead he felt his panic and frustration pour from his lips in an inhuman snarl.

"Fetch Rowan, dwarf – Sarah needs healing. Fetch Rowan and bring him to my chambers!"

"If you think I'm gonna let you-" Hoggle began, drawing himself up to his full height. He was still blocking Sarah's path to safety.

"You will!" thundered Jareth. The room quivered, and the darkest of magics swirled out of and around the King, engulfing him and Sarah in black and shining silver.

Hoggle had never seen such a sight, and only for the look that had crossed Jareth's mad face, he turned and ran off in the direction of the healer's corridor, hoping with all hope he had made the right choice.

As Hoggle left, Jareth looked down at the still unconscious Sarah. Opting not to use any more magic or even sprint to his destination in case he worsened her condition, Jareth slowly and purposefully carried her to his chambers.

**.**

**…**

**.**

Many hours later, Queen Lilu still waited, poised, crouching on the edge of reason as always in her cavern of cold truth. Her subjects had scattered, frightened for the King's inevitable return, for punishment.  
Lilu was not afraid of the inevitable, the necessary. It was why she was Queen.

Finally, Jareth reappeared without warning. A tall, intimidating creature known for the power that radiated off of every inch of him, it did not take him long to find her. She waited where he had last seen her; airborne, flickering like a firefly through the dense darkness. She was as close to the soil as she dared. The light radiating from her skin illuminated the King's hard-lined face.  
"Your Majesty," she purred, inclining her head to him. She smiled.

The King stared at her, his lips set in a firm line. His mismatched eyes, indicative of the unique brand of magic found rarely even in his own race, found hers, and for a moment, he did nothing.  
Then, quite suddenly, he raised his arm towards her and she felt a force unlike anything she had ever experienced grip her tightly. She was frozen in midair, motionless.  
Queen Lilu's grin faded.

"My dear Queen," began the King. His voice was ice. If she could've moved, she might've actually trembled.

"I warned you that you would reap the benefits of such a stunt," said Jareth coldly, "The only thing I could think that might be deserving enough for the havoc you have wrought upon my kingdom was to strip you of your physical freedom."

Queen Lilu permitted herself to frown. The King knew the most dangerous thing for her kind: she could not remain still. As a faerie of the darkest magic—a magic that required her to dance between dreams, desires, and nightmares—to remain stagnant was the same as ripping apart her very soul. She could not stand being caged for very long.  
The King was angrier than she had ever seen him. He did not understand.

"My King," Queen Lilu rasped quite calmly, "This is a place one can only find if it is the right time-"

"Silence!" roared Jareth. She felt another force ripple over her body, her sensitive wings. She couldn't even struggle. She was beginning to feel the pain of remaining still, deep in the recesses of her chest. Torture.  
She understood why Jareth was vengeful, but she wasn't too pleased with his method of revenge. Especially when it was unnecessary.

"My King," continued Lilu. She fixed him with a meaningful stare as to relay the importance of the words she would speak.

"The human girl wandered into my domain; not by accident, not through any method of my own manipulation. Like you, I am bound for eternity by law. You know this. You forged my sentence the same as the Labyrinth's. She was given her choice."

"You saw she was human," hissed Jareth, though Lilu felt more than saw some of his resolve falter. She hesitated to struggle, still. The King was reasonable. Even in love, the King always saw reason.

"A human with the mark of magic, my King. Regardless of the human's race, I am still bound," finished the faerie, "She will survive the magic. She is meant to survive. That is all I am able to convey to you. Each thread reveals itself in due course, and only to the host."  
Jareth stared at her. After many long, agonizing minutes in which Lilu actually felt her soul dying, he spoke.

"She lives," he said quietly.  
Without anything else said, she felt his grip slacken. She was able to move. A grin broke through her mask, and she danced through the air, reborn, _free_. When she gazed back at Jareth, his back was turned to her, fists clenched at his sides.

"It will soon be time for you to seek this place," said Lilu.

The King did not turn. He did nothing to acknowledge he had heard or understood Lilu's prophecy.  
He only vanished, like time gone missing.

**.**

**…**

**.**

**A/N:** Well, there we are! All will explained regarding what happened to dear Sarah next time, promise. Thanks again for your support, whether that be just reading, or if you are so kind to leave a review and/or favorite/follow! (And keep it up!) - _RebelRebel_


	8. Time Is Running Out

**Title:** _Muse**  
**_**Author:** RebelRebelMonster  
**Summary:** "I'm afraid, Sarah, dear, that you have no choice in the matter," replied Jareth, eyes twinkling. He lounged back in his armchair and casually pulled a crystal from thin air. It danced between his fingertips. "The Labyrinth—and I—have chosen you. You are, in every sense of the word, our muse."  
**Genre:** Romance/Drama  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Labyrinth_—thanks, Jim Henson and Co., for this compelling story.  
**A/N:** Hey everyone! Hope you had a fantastic St. Patrick's Day! And thank you so much for your incredible response to the itty bitty short Chapter 7. As always, I greatly appreciate and enjoy poring over the reviews, favorites and follows. Please keep it up! You're reading faster than I'm writing and I just got a job, so I'd like to keep the updates moving as quickly as they are if possible. Anyway, without further ado, Chapter 8 (don't worry, it's longer than Chapter 7!)...

Chapter 8  
**Time is Running Out  
**_I think I'm drowning, asphyxiated  
__I wanna break this spell that you've created  
__You're something beautiful; a contradiction  
__I wanna play the game, I want the friction...  
__I wanted freedom, bound and restricted  
__I tried to give you up but I'm addicted  
__Now that you know I'm trapped, sense of elation  
__You'd never dream of breaking this fixation  
__You will squeeze the life out of me  
__Bury it, I won't let you bury it  
__I won't let you smother it  
__I won't let you murder it  
__Our time is running out  
__Our time is running out  
__You can't push it Underground  
__You can't stop it screaming out  
__How did it come to this?  
__You will suck the life out of me…  
_(_"Time is Running Out", Absolution, __**Muse**_)

For Sarah it was like emerging from a deep, dense fog. Or perhaps from emerging from underwater, never knowing how long you had managed to hold your breath...it felt like ages, forever even, but was truly never a full minute.

For a few seconds she could see. She couldn't hear. She wasn't very aware of what she was seeing, she just knew she was lying down and surrounded by black. A shadow crossed the blackness, and she was gone again.

**.**

**...**

**.**

The next time she was aware of herself, she was able to hear. She heard before she saw. Hushed voices penetrated wherever she was, and she strained to hear them, to understand.

"She's been healing for nearly 3 days."

"The lady doth recover, brave Hoggle!"

"Shh! You'll jar her awake, and Rowan said that was the last thing he wanted."

She tried opening her mouth, to say something to these friends she vaguely remembered—_they were talking about her, weren't they? She should tell them she was all right, that she was okay…_

Her eyes flickered open and she caught a brief glimpse of a massive being; a giant beast, covered in auburn fur. The beast's large, toothy grin spread across his face the instant she knew she was seeing him.

"Sarah?" croaked the beast.

By the time the others had rushed to see her awake, she was gone again.

Hoggle and Sir Didymus questioned Ludo whether or not she had really been awake at all.

**.**

**...**

**.**

Sarah was floating. Or, at least, that was what it felt like.

No.

No, she wasn't floating at all. She was on something soft. She felt it, in her back. This led her to believe she was solid. She was real; she existed.

If she was solid, then she should still be human. She remembered she was human before. Humans had eyes.

Sarah opened hers.

Her surroundings swam hazily in her line of sight for a few seconds, but then, mercifully, her vision cleared. She was in a giant four-poster bed adorned in ebony sheets and curtains. The curtains were pulled nearly all the way shut except for a peeping hole by her right foot, so she could see little else.

Sarah felt fear pool in the pit of her stomach. Where was she? How did she get here? She didn't seem hurt at all, just weak. She tried sitting up a little. Her lack of strength only permitted her to move slowly, and after great effort, she moved herself to a sitting position.

"Hello?" she called quietly.

The resounding noise following her timid call nearly knocked her back down again. A short creature immediately thrust the hangings of her bed aside, and she was greeted by an enthusiastic fox dressed in knight's garb and a very angry dwarf.

"The lady doth awaken!" cried the fox.

"Quiet Didymus! You'll scare her back to sleepin'!" shouted the dwarf.

"Hoggle? Sir Didymus?" she asked, confused. Was she dreaming? For a moment Sarah did not understand. But then without any preamble, her memories of recent life Underground came rushing back to her in a dizzying sequence of images. She nearly swooned from the onslaught of knowledge.

"Sarah? Are you alright?" asked Hoggle in a hushed tone. Sarah steadied herself.

"What's…what's happened? Where am I? The cave…I was in a cave," Sarah murmured. Her own thoughts were making her faint. She remembered gruesome faces, one after the other…

"You were in an oubliette, Sarah…and you…you went to a dark place," said Hoggle quietly, "Jareth will be able to tell you."

At the mention of the Goblin King's name, Sarah felt her heart burn, and a sickening swoop in her stomach. She firmly closed her eyes and grasped Hoggle's outstretched hand tightly.  
_Later_, she thought, _I'll think about that later_.

"Milady?" asked Sir Didymus. Sarah opened her eyes. She gazed at her friends, who looked at her with deep concern. She let go of Hoggle's hand, placing hers in her lap, and attempted a small smile.

"It's all right. I'm all right. I just feel…very tired," she said lamely.

"Milady, I must say, we are all so _pleased_ you've come back to us," said Didymus excitedly with a bow and a sweep of his hat, "A few days ago Sir Ludo thought you had awoken and we were very worried when you had fallen back…asleep. What is important now is that you are well on your way to recovery!"

"Thank you, Didymus," said Sarah, really smiling this time.

"We've been very worried about you, Sarah," said Hoggle.

"Now that you're doing better, I must inform Sir Ludo," cried Didymus gleefully, "His Majesty ordered him to leave some days ago for all the excitement he caused over supposedly seeing you conscious. We will visit next when the King permits it, Milady," he assured her. Sarah nodded, frowning slightly, as Didymus turned and left the unfamiliar but otherwise grand room.

Something had just occurred to her. Why hadn't they taken her to the room she had been in before? Where was she, anyway? She had a sneaking suspicion that this very comfortable and luxurious room didn't belong to just anyone…

"Hoggle," Sarah began slowly, meeting his eyes, "Where am I? I'm not in my old room."

"Er…no," said Hoggle slowly, looking at his feet.

"Hoggle," Sarah pleaded.

"Well, er…Sarah, you've got to understand-"

Whatever Hoggle had been about to say, however, was interrupted by the door bursting open. Sarah, still blocked by the curtains lining the foot and left side of her bed, did not see the newcomer at first, though she had a nagging suspicion that it was the Goblin King. The suspense ended in an instant, however, when the drapes were thrust aside.

"You're a human?" blurted Sarah. Standing before her was not the formidable Goblin King but a different man altogether: he was of average height and build, with light brown hair falling into his eyes. Perched on his rather generous nose was a pair of spectacles, though they didn't mask twinkling cerulean eyes. He wore a decidedly friendly grin, and was dressed somewhat strangely for an inhabitant of the Underground, in almost modern-day tan slacks, a clean white shirt and a brown vest.

"Ah, Sarah, you've finally awoken!" said the man, still smiling, "And yes, I am somewhat human, I suppose, in a manner of speaking."

"Sarah, this is Rowan, the healer," said Hoggle, looking relieved that he didn't have to answer Sarah's question.

"Yes, indeed," continued Rowan, coming round to join Hoggle at her right side, "And I'm afraid, my dear, that now that you're awake, I will have to check a few things to make sure you're on the proper route to recovery."

"Oh," said Sarah somewhat nervously.

"Sounds like I should be going," said Hoggle quickly. Sarah shot him another pleading look but he gave her a guilty look before shuffling out of the room without another word.

"It's all right," began Rowan slowly, peering down at her with a gentle smile, "I suppose the best place to start would be to explain just what exactly has happened to your body."

Still smiling gently, he raised an arm and to Sarah's immense surprise, a chair from a desk across the room flew towards them and landed just next to the bed.

"You can do magic?" she asked incredulously.

"All in good time, my dear," said Rowan, chuckling, "Now. The magic infused within your circulatory system is a very rare, old magic. What happened to your body, as a result, is quite curious. I have never seen such a reaction. Most humans subjected to that amount of power die almost instantly."  
Sarah's eyes widened.

"Who was she?" she asked quietly, "Why did she want to give me the thread?"  
Rowan's gaze became serious.

"That I cannot say. Those questions—the questions pertaining to the how's and why's—must be asked of the King. He will tell you, I am sure, in time. I am here only to inform you of how you will be recuperating."

"I don't want the _King_ to-" began Sarah stubbornly, but Rowan carefully interrupted.

"Do not be silly, my dear. Do take note that had you not been brought here by the King, had he not contained and drew the magic out of you, you would certainly no longer be with us."  
Sarah promptly shut her mouth.

"Now," began Rowan, the smile easing back onto his lips, "You will feel very weak for some time. A few weeks, at most. It will take your body some time to…adjust."

"Adjust?" asked Sarah. Rowan opened his mouth to further explain, but in that same moment, the air shifted—suddenly, Jareth stood next to Rowan.

Sarah felt a searing pain in her heart and the same ill feeling in her stomach, but she refused to acknowledge it as the Goblin King fixed his eyes on her. He was as intimidating as ever, especially as he towered over both Rowan and herself. After appraising the apparent improvement in her health, he turned to Rowan.

"Report, Your Highness?" asked the healer. Jareth nodded curtly.

"She seems to be doing just fine. I have just told her that she will be weak for a few weeks, at best, as her body recuperates. As we have been speaking, she has been more than responsive in terms of her motor skills. She appears to have no memory loss and is, naturally, quite exhausted. She must be wary of overtiring and should slowly resume consuming solid foods. Your Majesty, if there were any serious complications, particularly pertaining to her brain or organs, they would have made themselves known by now."

"Very good," said Jareth. His eyes left Rowan's and turned back to Sarah's.

"Leave us," he said slowly. Rowan nodded and smiled at Sarah once more before standing and making his way to the door.

After he left, Jareth turned his back on Sarah, walking purposefully away from her towards an open balcony in the corner of the room. Sarah was indignantly surprised. This was unlike him; Jareth loved flaunting his power over her. This was as good a time as any.

"I'm sure you are wondering, Sarah, just what has progressed over the time you have been unconscious," said Jareth softly. She listened for any note of emotion in his voice, but it was carefully calm—and unnerving.  
He turned to look at her now, his hands held behind his back regally. He was still very far away.

"You must have many questions," he said silkily.

"Yes," Sarah agreed softly. Now that he was looking at her, his mismatched eyes once again mesmerized her. She felt very vulnerable, lying there barely able to move, with his gaze boring into her like that.  
He did not speak. It seemed that he was waiting for her to.

"Who was she?" she asked. Jareth raised his eyebrows in slight surprise, but then opened his mouth to answer.

"She is the keeper of cold truth," said Jareth slowly, his eyes never leaving hers. It seemed to Sarah that he was trying to read her mind.

"She is Lilu, the Spinner, provocateur of restless nights and erotic dreams. Crouching on the edge of reason, just beyond rationality, she is the dark faerie who ensnares with compulsions, fixations, and feverish imaginings. Yet...within the dark tangle of images she weaves are the glittering threads of our own healing—for even as she conjures our compulsions, she too holds out the ability to release their grip, enabling us to confront and let go of all that we no longer need," finished Jareth.

Sarah nodded, understanding. She looked down at her hands. She was slightly aghast at her own lack of reaction, but in truth, she had guessed, known, really, what the little faerie had done to her, or tried to show her. Perhaps she had known the moment the thread had connected. She might've even known as soon as she had accepted it from her what it might mean. That didn't mean she had to believe that it was true—or had happened without cause.  
A senseless heat blossomed in the pit of her stomach as she looked back up at Jareth.

"Did you put me in there?" she asked carefully, voice brimming with anger. Jareth's face could have been a mask. He said nothing.

"Did you?" she asked forcefully, attempting to sit a bit a taller before falling back in the cushions, slightly out of breath. As she fell back, a tiny spasm seemed to go through Jareth's body, as if he was forcing himself to stay still.

"Careful, Sarah," he warned, eyes darting quickly up and down her now limp form.

"Answer me," Sarah said, voice shaking slightly, whether from anger or exhaustion, she didn't quite know. Jareth's eyes bore into hers for a few prickly moments of silence before he answered.

"No. I did not."

"And the other dreams?" Sarah asked stiffly, keeping her eyes locked on his. Jareth's expressionless face twisted into an angry sneer.

"I can create dreams, Sarah, but I cannot see such intimacies unless I am apart of them," he whispered coolly. At his answer, Sarah tore her eyes away, looking at her lap again, consciously trying to still her rapidly beating heart. The minutes passed, and Sarah felt her once white-hot anger begin to ebb away, much as she tried to hold onto it.

She was broken from her reverie when Jareth spoke.

"Sarah," he said carefully, his voice deep, controlled, "What did she show you?"

She looked up at him now, the fear palpable in her large eyes. Jareth studied her more intensely than he ever had before. It was plain he cared very much about her answer.

"No," Sarah pleaded, "I can't tell you."

Surprising her again, he dropped his gaze for a moment before looking back up at her, a haughty smirk dancing across his lips. He nodded, not speaking. His eyes were cold fire. Forcing herself to push his very personal question and strange lack of insistence to the back of her mind, Sarah pressed on.

"Why?" she whispered.

"You were in an oubliette," said Jareth, beginning to pace the length of the room. It was amazing how, without even trying, he stalked like a predator.

"You left that oubliette. Foolish of you," he remarked dryly, "But you would never have found that place if you were not meant to, nor would you have been able to refuse her. Her cavern is one of the darkest places in the Labyrinth, visited rarely. The Labyrinth led you there, as it does for everyone. It was traditional for a Fae male, when he came of age, to seek Lilu out—she would give him the same gift she gave you—the thread revealing the cold truth of the deepest, darkest recess of his heart, his future."

Sarah stared at him, unbelieving. She knew he knew she was wondering whether or not he had ever been given his own thread of reason.

"Upon entering the cavern, you were given a false choice. You could never have resisted. Lilu is—regrettably—bound by law," Jareth continued, his pace slow, "Most that seek her never find her; are not worthy of the thread she might have woven for them. It is, as I said, uncommon. The tradition is not attempted very often much more—only those in the Fae Realm still believing of the power of her gift and _meant_ to find it ever visit my Labyrinth for such a reason."

Sarah frowned._ So what happened could not have happened any other way_, she thought. The Labyrinth would only have led her there if she was meant to see what she had inevitably seen. Once again, she was faced with the consequences of her own impulse. No matter what, it seemed that the Labyrinth wanted to force her to see truth—or was it really truth? The Labyrinth, as Jareth had said, was sentient. Maybe it was possible that what she had seen wasn't true, that this time the Labyrinth had done as such to ensure she would accept her life here.  
She looked up at Jareth and swallowed a fresh wave of heat that passed over her.

"How long was I...?"

"You were unconscious for nearly a week," supplied Jareth, "6 days."

"Rowan is human," she said. It wasn't a question. Jareth's smirk widened.

"He is a child of both worlds," he said, "Half-Fae, half-human—born from a human mother that was wished away to the Labyrinth and a Fae Lord. He is a useful healer, understanding of both the human body and the Fae. Anything I alone cannot determine through the use of more advanced magic, he can surmise. I preferred that he assess your _human_ physical condition."  
A surge of new questions threatened to spill from Sarah's lips at all of this new information.

"I thought you turned humans wished away into goblins?" she asked.

Jareth laughed coldly, and began to stalk closer to her. She made no attempt to move, or let him know how this unsettled her.  
"For someone so thoroughly defiant against staying here, you know very little about the place you reside, Sarah." said Jareth, "Children wished away are given a choice, depending on their age. If too young to comprehend the burden of such a choice, they are immediately turned. They will not remember ever being anything else besides goblin."

"What happens to the children who stay human?" asked Sarah, wide-eyed.

"They enter the Fae Realm," said Jareth, "The northern kingdom of my kind. There they reside as second-class citizens. Unable to perform magic, they usually become servants to the Fae."

"Well, that's just-" began Sarah heatedly, but Jareth raised a hand to shush her, and she let the words fall away.

"Sarah," he began, "Limit your raving. You are not well. You must not overexert yourself. When you have recovered, you may learn all you like in the library. Limit your questions to what is necessary that you hear from me."  
Sarah glared at him. _Raving_, was she? Well, that was rich, coming from a—

"Sarah," Jareth continued, interrupting her thoughts as if he knew exactly what she had been thinking. He strode even closer to the side of the bed, "It does not bode well for your health."

Sarah sighed loudly, looking away from him to take in her surroundings once more, only to become infuriated again.

"Where am I?" she asked indignantly. She already knew the answer, but she wanted to hear him say it.

"You are in my chambers," Jareth replied. His face, mostly an emotionless mask for the duration of her questioning, betrayed a hint of amusement.

"_Why_?" she asked pointedly.

"It was the most suitable for you in terms of recovery," he said mockingly, sneering, "Do not worry your pretty little head, Sarah. I am capable of being a gentleman. I have no intention of being anything but that with an ailing young woman."  
Slightly ashamed but still annoyed, Sarah lowered her gaze from his.

"What did Rowan mean...'adjust'?" she asked, finally.

She expected Jareth to answer immediately, and when he didn't, she looked back up at him. He was looking at her calculatingly, as if he wasn't sure how much to tell her.

"Rowan meant to imply that your body has been irrevocably changed," he drawled, finally, "Being a true human in the Underground is impossible. Humans wished away slowly adapt over time to live much longer than they would have in the Aboveground. Most become near-immortal the same as the Fae, but this process usually happens over time. You were subjected to a deep, altering magic. Your aging process will slow much more quickly. That and the Labyrinth's claim upon you has, undoubtedly, secured your immortal life."

"So I'm going to be 24-years-old for the rest of my life?" Sarah asked incredulously.

"Yes," confirmed Jareth.

A tense silence pervaded the room, stealing the hearts from both lion and lamb. Neither Sarah nor Jareth seemed able to look away from each other. Sarah felt her breath quicken, and she suddenly realized again that Jareth had saved her life. Whatever the circumstances, she still owed him her gratitude.

"Our time is running out, Jareth," Sarah said quietly, "And now I feel in debt to you for your little rescue."

He continued to stare at her. For once, she thought she might be able to read his expression: he recognized her inch towards defeat. He knew that _she_ knew it was slowly becoming less likely she could ever leave the Underground.  
A ghost of a grin crossed Jareth's face.

"I assure you, Sarah, here, all there is is time," replied Jareth, his cold eyes sparkling strangely, with an odd sort of mirth, "And I will no longer be alone for the eons of it."  
Without another word, he turned his back on her and swept from the room.  
If anyone had asked her, Sarah wouldn't have been able to explain the sudden rush of blood to her heart.

.

…

.

A/N: Bagh! What do you think? Let me know in a review! I'm gonna be on a bus all day tomorrow so, seriously, they will make me feel a jillion times better. Some questions answered, I think. I can't believe how fast this story is going; we're like getting to the good stuff so quickly (promise!). Anyway, thanks all! - _RebelRebel_


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